Heaven goes to Hell
by MollyMonster
Summary: It's been a year since the Grace Crisis, and things are going well. Lucy, Sam, and Dean are hunting, and Lucy and Cas's relationship has never been better. But then Lucy starts getting odd feelings, as though someone- or something- is watching her. This is a sequel to "Angels, Demons, and TV Shows." OC/Cas Lucy/Cas
1. Chapter 1

"So what's the plan here?"

Dean glanced back towards me from the driver's seat of the impala, then over to Sam.

"Well, Sam and I are going in pretending to be insurance agents. Which means you'll have to keep out of sight."

I rolled my eyes. "I'll snoop around outside."

"Fine." Dean looked unhappy as he guided the car around a bend in the road. "Keep in mind we'll probably be out there at some point with the family, and they got a little kid. Little kids like to run around."

"Basically be careful," Sam reiterated.

I nodded. "I know, I know. How long have we been doing this?"

It was a rhetorical question. I knew the answer. I had been hunting with the boys for a little over a year since the Grace Crisis, making it about a year and a half since we had started working together. Currently we were investigating a haunted house somewhere in Alabama, where a family of four lived out in the middle of nowhere in a rickety old house.

Really; a rickety old house in the middle of nowhere. What were they thinking?

They'd been getting for the most part minor experiences with whoever was lingering in their house. The thing was though, the patterns were random. Sometimes things would be getting knocked over, other times the ghost would neatly stack every jar in the cabinets.

That wasn't at the top of our worries though. The other day a repairman had come to fix a leak in the roof, and somehow all the screws in his ladder had come loose. The man had ended up in the hospital with a broken arm and spine.

The official report was blaming it on the ladder. Apparently it was rusty and old, and coincidentally several friends had warned the repairman over the past year that the thing was gonna give. The boys and I knew better.

Dean turned into the driveway. It was long and curving, leading up to a large house. Two stories, with a wraparound porch on the front. Ivy was climbing up the side by the chimney, and bits of white paint still clung to some of the wooden boards of the house. Three large pillars on the front porch held up an overhang, and ivy climbed up these as well. Once, long ago and well painted, I imagined the house had been beautiful. Now it was just sad and a little bit creepy looking.

"Ok." Dean parked the car, glancing around us. "We'll probably start inside, so you should have some time to snoop around outside. Keep an ear open though."

I nodded. "Got it."

Sam and Dean nodded, then they slipped out of the car and made their way up the steps of the porch. Sam knocked twice, and I ducked down in the impala. A moment later a woman came to the door, exchanged a few words with Sam and Dean, and led them inside. She didn't see me.

I slid from the car, glancing up at the sky as I went. It was early evening, the sky just beginning to darken with streaks of pink and purple in the west, highlighting the fading sun.

I took a moment to breathe in the fresh air and then started around the house, edging carefully and quietly. As I went I pulled my EMF detector from my pocket, plugging in the earbuds and holding it ready.

At the back of the house was an old shed, even grungier looking than the house. I took a moment to make sure no one was outside or looking outside from the house, then jogged quickly across the wide yard.

It was an easy matter to pick the lock on the shed. I probably could have just broken it if I'd wanted to; it looked about ready to break on its own.

Inside the shed was a tractor and several toys for a little kid, all looking, surprise, surprise, ready to fall apart. The bike in the corner needed to have one of its chains replaced, and I wasn't sure I wanted to hack my way through the thick blanket of cobwebs to get to the wooden box in the back. Leaning forward though I could just see inside; the box contained sports equipment. Baseball balls and gloves, basketballs, soccer balls, even a couple of footballs. A pair of baseball bats was leaning against the side of the little box, one about the right size for a grown man, the other just big enough for a little boy.

The EMF needle had been spiking the entire time I was on the property, and it didn't rise any higher while I was in the shed. I sighed and left, fitting the lock back onto the door. A moment later I heard footsteps approaching, and with a curse hurried behind the shed, out of sight of the house.

"I'm sorry," said the woman; Mrs. Frea if I remembered correctly. "I'm still not sure why you need to look at my entire house."

"We need to look over the entire house to see what sort of condition it's in," answered Sam. "Just to make sure there weren't any other contributing factors to Mr. Berth's fall."

Peering around the side of the shed, I could just see Mrs. Frea gulp nervously, obviously thinking she had an oncoming lawsuit to deal with. I took a moment to examine her. She was a bit chubby but still pretty, with dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and big brown eyes. From around her hip peeked a little boy of about eight, gazing curiously at Sam and Dean. He had the same hair and eyes as his mother, though I guessed that his reed thin physique came from his father.

"And this is the last thing you need to see?" Mrs. Frea asked.

"Yep," affirmed Dean. "Then we'll be out of your hair."

I couldn't help but wonder if the relieved look that flashed across the woman's face had anything to do with a fear of her latest house guests being targeting by her undead one. Either way she nodded and closed the back door to the house behind her, guiding her son into the next room.

Sam and Dean walked slowly towards me, and after checking to make sure no one else was around I emerged from my hiding place.

"Anything?" asked Sam.

I shook my head. "Not much. There's a bit of EMF, but I'm guessing whatever's going on here is focused inside."

"Yeah," said Dean. "This thing was going crazy." He held up his own EMF detector, then started walking slowly around the shed. "You head back to the car, Sam and I will hang out here for a minute and make it look like we're doing something."

I chuckled and nodded, slipping easily back to the impala. About five minutes later Sam and Dean were back, waving to the curtain that twitched in the front window as they clambered into the car.

"Now what?" I asked as we pulled onto the main road.

"Now we go to the hospital, see if the repairman noticed anything useful," said Sam. "While we're there can you head back to the motel and start researching the house?"

"Sure."

Sam and Dean dropped me off at the motel before heading to the hospital, and I grabbed Sam's computer from the room he was sharing with Dean. Bringing it back to my room, I sighed as I curled up on one of the beds. As I waited for the computer to log on I pulled my phone out of my pocket, checking for messages from Cas.

Nothing.

He had left a few days ago, feeling a need to check in on heaven and make sure everything was going well. I'd made him promise me to call every night, and so far he'd kept his word.

I sighed. I was impatient, not to mention severely missing my boyfriend. He'd spent the majority of his time over the past year with me, and neither of us was used to the separation.

As the computer finished loading I tossed my phone to the side, pulling up the internet. A quick search on the house pulled up an article from about thirty years ago, about a man who had killed himself there.

His name had been Robert Unthur. A mechanic just inside town, he hadn't made much money. The only reason he could live in such a big house was that he had inherited it from his parents. With him lived his wife Valerie and his son Will.

A month before Robert had hung himself his wife and son had up and vanished. No one knew where they had gone. All they knew was that Robert came home one night to an empty house. All of his wife's and son's things had been cleaned out and they were gone. No note, nothing. She hadn't even left her wedding ring.

So maybe it was Robert who was haunting the house. I did a quick search on him; he was buried in the local cemetery. The boys and I could easily burn his bones once they got from the hospital.

It didn't take long for that to happen. About a half hour later they came through the door, loosening their ties and grabbing beers. I chuckled as they started to sprawl into the chairs at the little table in the corner of the room.

"Not yet," I said. "We've got to burn a body."

"You found our ghost?" asked Sam.

I nodded and showed them the computer. "I think so. He's the only person who's died there, so it makes sense."

Dean nodded slowly, skimming through the article.

"What about you guys?" I asked. "What'd Mr. Berth tell you?"

Sam sighed. "Nothing much. The air got a bit cold, then suddenly his ladder collapsed out from under him."

"So he didn't see the ghost?" I asked.

Sam shook his head, then took the computer from Dean and started reading. When he finished he stood and downed his beer, starting for the door.

"Let us get changed quick, then we'll meet you at the car."

I nodded and grabbed my jacket, and ten minutes later we were pulling into a drive through. We ate in the parking lot, taking our time as we waited for the sun to finish setting. Then, once night had completely fallen, we made our way to the cemetery.

The downside to insisting that I work cases was that Dean made me help dig. He manned the flashlight as Sam and I set to work, and I took care to throw my shovelfuls of dirt his way.

After setting fire to the bones we lingered for a few minutes to make sure they continued to burn, then hurried from the graveyard. We knew sooner or later someone would notice the little campfire we'd started, and we didn't want to be around when the cops showed up.

I was just getting out of the shower in my motel room when my phone buzzed, and with a wide grin I grabbed it.

"Hey Angel Dust," I greeted.

Cas's chuckle was low and happy. "Hello," he responded. "How are you?"

I shrugged, even though he couldn't see it. "Fine. We just wrapped up a case. What about you? How's heaven doing?"

"Heaven's fine." Cas let out an almost inaudible sigh. "I miss you."

I smiled. "I miss you too. How much longer do you have to stay there?"

"Another day or two. Then I'm all yours."

"Cool. I can't wait."

"Me neither."

For a moment we both were silent, and I put the phone on speaker so I could continue to talk to Cas as I got dressed.

"Are you heading back to the bunker next?" asked Cas.

"I'm not sure. It depends on if we find another case to work. I'll know by the morning."

"Let me know," Cas said. He let out a huff of breath, and I could imagine him finding a quiet place to sit and talk to me undisturbed. "I really don't enjoy the politics," he stated. "I wish that would go away."

I laughed lightly. "Sorry. You should have given me more time to mess with stuff."

Cas was silent for a moment, and I knew we were both thinking back to the Grace Crisis and whatever I had become in those moments. It was still, even after so much time, a delicate subject to broach.

"I'm fine," I reminded him. "Perfectly fine."

Cas sighed on the other end of the phone. "I know," he said. "Still, I worry. What happened, it was- it never should have happened."

I settled back on my bed, curling up under the covers. "Maybe, but it did and there's not much we can do about it. At least we got some good out of the whole thing."

"True."

I could hear the frown in Cas's voice, and knew he was still unhappy.

"I just don't like that you were put in that position to begin with. I should have kept you safe."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't even start. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Let's not forget who pulled who out of a river."

I grimaced even as I spoke; the memory of Cas's near death still rubbed me the wrong way. Now it was Cas's turn to reassure me.

"I survived," he reminded. "We're both fine."

"I know." I chuckled. "Our lives are so messed up."

Cas laughed. "They are," he agreed. "But I wouldn't have things any other way."

I smiled. "Me neither."

There was another pause, and then Cas sighed. "I should go," he said. "I need to get back to heaven."

"Call me tomorrow?"

"Of course. Goodnight Lucy."

"Night Cas."

I flipped the phone shut, then plugged it in and curled up on my side. I was exhausted, and the pillows under my head were feeling pretty comfy. I was moments away from sleep when there was a knock on my door.

"What?" I moaned.

"Lucy, it's Sam, open up!"

I groaned. "I'm trying to sleep!"

"We've got a problem!"

I scowled as I pushed myself up, slowly making my way to the door. "Damn right we have a problem," I called. "I'm trying to—"

I froze as I swung open the door. Sam's face was flushed, and he was breathing heavily.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"The ghost," Sam panted. "I don't know if we had the wrong person or if it's not being kept here by the bones, but it's not done yet. It hurt someone else."

I cursed and shot back inside, grabbing my jacket and phone. "Who?" I asked. "What happened?" My mind flashed to the little boy I'd glimpsed that day.

 _Don't let it be him,_ I thought. _Please not him._

Sam shut the door to my room behind me as we bolted for the car, which Dean was already putting into gear. "The daughter, Mia, she had her boyfriend over. The ghost knocked him down the stairs."

I winced as I climbed into the impala. "Is he alright?"

Dean glanced back at me, eyes dark and unreadable. "He's dead."


	2. Chapter 2

The drive out to the Freas' house was spent in a terse silence, during which I found myself gnawing at my nails. I racked over the case in my head, trying to figure out what I had missed. Was something else holding Robert Unther here or was it someone else entirely? Maybe it was a Tulpa. What had I missed?

I had absolutely no idea what, but I did know one thing. My mistake had cost someone their life. Some boy probably about my age was dead, and that was on me.

Sam glanced back as my breathing started to get heavier, and a concerned look flashed across his face.

"Lucy. Hey, Lucy. This isn't your fault."

I slanted him a disbelieving look. "Yes it is," I argued.

"No it's not," said Sam. "We all agreed on what was going on, we all missed- whatever it is we missed. Alright?"

I pressed my lips together in a thin line, and I shook my head ever so slightly. Sam could say what he wanted. I'd been the one who'd done the research, who'd stopped at the first possible person and decided it must be him. It was my lack of effort that had led to the mistake.

Dean used the rearview mirror to glance back at me. "Do you want to head back to the motel?" he asked. "You don't have to come with us; Sam and I can take this one alone."

I shook my head. "No, I need to do this. You know that."

Dean sighed and averted his eyes; he did know that.

A few minutes later the headlights of the impala fell on the house. It looked exactly the same as it had earlier that day; old and dilapidated, with ivy crawling up the walls. Except now there was yellow police tape stretched across the front door.

"How long ago did he die?" I asked. "Actually, tell me everything you know, cos I don't know much."

Dean shrugged. "Neither do we. I was listening in on the police radio when I heard them mention it. All I heard was that the kid fell down the stairs. Was pronounced dead on scene."

I gulped. "Kid?"

Sam slanted a glare sideways to Dean. "Yeah," he said. "The daughter Mia is seventeen, so the boyfriend was probably the same age."

I nodded and glanced away, mouthing the word _was_ to myself. It was funny how easily Sam and Dean were able to refer to someone with that term, like the fact that they no longer existed was insignificant. To me it still felt surreal, wrong.

"You ok?" asked Dean.

I nodded. "Yeah. Let's go."

Both Sam and Dean looked disbelieving, but as I was already climbing out of the car they didn't have much choice but to follow. We hurried to the back of the impala, sticking rock salt guns and angel blades in our belts. The blades, we'd learned, worked on everything, including ghosts.

When Mrs. Frea opened the front door it was with a scared, exhausted expression. Her eyes focused on Sam and Dean and she blinked rapidly, taking a few moments to recognize them without the suits they'd been wearing earlier.

"Mr. Bennet. Mr. Harvey. What are you doing here?" she asked.

Dean smiled. "Yeah… about that. We're not who we said we were."

Mrs. Frea frowned. "What do you mean? Who's this?" She spotted me for the first time, hovering anxiously behind Sam and Dean.

Sam sighed. "Mrs. Frea, would you mind if we all stepped inside for a minute?"

Her eyes flickered back inside her house nervously, and she ran her tongue over her lips to wet them. "I don't think that's possible," she said. "We were just leaving."

The boys and I exchanged looks.

"Sorry," apologized Dean. He gave a small shove against the front door, and with a yelp of surprise Mrs. Frea stumbled back. We pushed our way inside the house, and I saw that stacked just by the door were several suitcases.

"Going somewhere?" I asked.

"A motel."

I glanced up to see Mr. Frea approaching. He was a lanky man dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt, the house lights above him glinting off the large bald spot on the top of his head. He came to stand behind his wife, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"Our house is a crime scene. We were asked by the police to find a motel to stay in for the time being. Who're you?"

Sam stepped forward. "I'm Sam," he explained. "This is my brother Dean and my sister Lucy." He ignored the questioning glances I got from the couple; we were used to people doubting us based on my skin color. "We're here to help."

Mr. Frea gulped. "Help with what?" he asked.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Don't play dumb. We know about Casper the not so friendly ghost."

Mr. and Mrs. Freas' eyes widened, and they exchanged nervous looks.

"I- I don't know what you're talking about," stuttered Mrs. Frea. "I really must ask you to go." She tried to move to the door, but a vase flew off a nearby table, smashing against the wall inches away from her head. She screamed and leapt back, and Sam, Dean, and I drew our guns, sweeping our eyes over the living room. Nothing was there.

"I suppose you're gonna try and say that was some weather anomaly or something," Dean stated. "Don't bother. We've heard all the excuses. That," and here he pointed to where shards of the vase were littering the floor. "Is not natural."

"It's Supernatural," I muttered. I couldn't help a small feeling of glee at my own inside joke, but no one else seemed to find it funny.

"Fine. Fine." Mr. Frea began pacing back and forth. "So it is. Supernatural, or whatever you want to call it. We need to get out of here before it hurts anyone else!"

Sam shook his head. "It won't," he promised. "That's why we're here." He gestured imploringly to the couch, and after a moment Mr. and Mrs. Frea sat.

"Where are your kids?" I asked. I frowned; surely the sound of the vase breaking should have drawn them downstairs.

"They're packing," answered Mrs. Frea.

I nodded. "I'll go get them. They should know what's going on."

Before anyone could respond I hurried up the stairs, eager to escape the explanation Sam was about to give. I didn't need to listen to my failure being described.

The first room on the right at the top of the stairs was open, empty. I assumed it had been Mr. and Mrs. Freas'. The one on the left led to a small bathroom, and I moved quickly past. The next room I got to was on the right side of the hallway as well, the door shut and music pounding from within.

I knocked, but when no one said anything I frowned and pushed open the door. A teenage girl with blonde hair was standing at the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the wall. Tears were running down her cheeks, but her sobs were- for now- silent. I guessed that was why she'd put on the music. So that no one would hear her crying.

I knocked again on the now open door, and this time she heard me. Mia gave a small frightened sound and backed away, automatically searching her room for something she could use as a weapon. Unless she was planning on clobbering me with tiny cellphone on her nightstand, she didn't have many options.

I held up my hands anyway, putting a placating smile on my face. "It's ok," I reassured her. "It's alright. I'm Lucy. My brothers are downstairs with your parents. We're here to help."

Mia relaxed slightly, but still eyed me warily. "Help with what?" she asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Come on. We both know what's going on here. There's a ghost hanging around your house, and you need it to leave. That's where we come in."

Mia gulped, her already big blue eyes growing bigger. "You- you can do that?" she asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, we can. But I need you and your brother to come downstairs. It makes things easier if everyone is in the loop."

Mia nodded and started to brush past me, but I grabbed her arm to stop her. "I know this must be hard," I whispered. "All this." I waved an arm around to indicate her uninvited house guest and all its havoc, and both our gazes went to the stairs. "I'm sorry. I know that doesn't mean much; it won't bring back- back—"

Oh god. I didn't even know his name. Mia's boyfriend had died because of me, and I didn't even know who he was. I gulped, a guilty flush overtaking my face, and beside me Mia stiffened.

"Danny," she said. "His name was Danny. Danny Briant." She sniffled, tears welling to her eyes again. "It's my fault," she moaned. "It's my fault he's dead."

I shook my head. "No it isn't." I sighed and took her hand, leading her slowly back to her bed. As much as I hated it, I needed to explain things to Mia myself. "It's my fault."

Mia looked at me in confusion, so I rushed to continue. "I did some research, and I found someone who I thought was the ghost. He was buried in the local cemetery, so earlier tonight my brothers and I went and burned the body. It's how you get rid of a ghost."

Mia shook her head. "I don't understand. If you killed it then…"

I sighed. "I must've been wrong. I don't know if there's something else holding him here, something in the house maybe, or maybe even the house itself. Or he might not even be the ghost. All I know is that I jumped to conclusions; I was wrong. It's my fault Danny is dead."

I had to force Danny's name past a lump in my throat. The name made him that much more of a person, that much more real. It was a stabbing reminder of what my inefficiency had cost. I was forced to blink back my own tears and glance away from Mia, afraid of what I would see in her eyes.

"No." She took my hand again- I hadn't even realized I'd pulled out of her grasp. "It's not your fault." She took a deep breath, sounding like she was still on the verge of crying. "You guys are the best, right? The best at what you do? If you missed it, whatever it is, no one else would have seen it. It wasn't your fault."

I bit my lip. While I was sure Sam and Dean were the best hunters out there, I wasn't so sure about myself. I decided not to tell Mia that though. All of her feelings of safety, of reassurance that the boys and I could actually get rid of the damn ghost, were probably riding on her belief that I knew what I was doing.

Besides, it was an easy way out of what I'd done. And I was weak enough to take it.

I nodded slowly. "Ok," I said. I scanned around the room, gulping as my gaze fell on a picture of Mia and Danny. Danny had been tall, with dark curly hair that fell into twinkling eyes. I glanced away so I didn't have to look at the happy, boyish grin he was aiming at the camera.

My eyes fell on Mia's arm, and I frowned. "Where did you get those bruises?" I asked.

Mia glanced down at her bare arms, frowning as she noticed for the first time the thin bruises running along her forearms. Four in a neat little row, with a fifth on the other side of her arm. Almost like a hand gripping her a little too tightly.

She gulped. "That- that was when Danny fell. I tried to grab him, to stop him from falling. It- it didn't work."

She glanced away, her hands fidgeting in her lap, and I frowned. If he had grabbed her arm when he fell with that much force, he would have dragged her down the stairs with him. Not only that, but the bruises were at the wrong angle.

"Try again."

Mia glanced up sharply.

"What really happened?" I asked.

Mia sighed. "Alright. Alright. We were- we were fooling around in here. Nothing serious. I decided I wanted some fresh air; we were gonna take a walk around outside or something. I dunno. I think I just wanted him out of the house before- before—" She broke off with a sob, and I rubbed her back soothingly until she could continue. "We were in the hall when he suggested that while we were out, we could go all the way. You know."

I nodded. I'd figured it out. After a moment Mia continued, staring at her hands as she did.

"I laughed and said no, and he pushed me against the wall. Tried to convince me. His hands got a bit tight, but he didn't mean anything by it. He was just fooling around." She looked at me imploringly, begging me to believe her.

I crinkled my nose. It didn't really matter what I thought of her boyfriend. All that mattered was catching the ghost that had killed him.

"And then what?" I asked.

Mia gulped. "I- I uh, I told him to get off, and he did. After a minute. He was laughing, we both were, it was just a game. But then something- the- the ghost- shoved him down the stairs. Not just down the stairs, over the banister." Her breathing grew heavy, and I was again forced to comfort her.

That was interesting. Was it a coincidence that the ghost had decided to make an appearance when it looked like Mia was in trouble? When her boyfriend was getting a bit rough? Something told me it wasn't.

My heart beating faster with anticipation, I stood and moved quickly across the room. "Come on," I told Mia. "I've got an idea. Let's get your brother and join the others."

Mia nodded and followed me out of the room, drawing me to a halt outside of her brother's door. "Maybe I should go in and bring him out to you," she said. "I don't want you to scare him."

I nodded, stepping back. Mia knocked lightly on her brother's door.

"Matt?" she called. "Matty?"

When no answer came she pushed the door open, slipping inside. For a moment there was silence.

"Matt!"

I shoved into the room, scanning around me. With the exception of Mia and I, no one else was in the there.

Mia spun and grabbed my shoulders, verging on panic. "Where is he?" she asked. "Where's my brother?"

"I don't know." I grasped Mia's hands in mine, forcing my breaths to come deep and even. "It's ok. We'll figure it out. Mia, you need to calm down."

It took a minute, but at last Mia's breath began to slow. She nodded as she stepped back, and I turned my attention away from her. The room looked completely normal; there weren't any signs of a struggle.

"Maybe he's just downstairs?"

Mia nodded eagerly, and we sprinted downstairs together. In the living room we found Sam and Dean with Mia's parents, all talking quietly. No Matt.

They all glanced up as we came in. "Where's Matt?" asked Mrs. Frea. Her gaze drifted back and forth between Mia and me, worry slowly taking over her features. Beside me Mia was beginning to hyperventilate again.

Sam and Dean stood. "Where do you remember seeing him last?" asked Sam.

Mr. Frea blinked a few times. "Uh- we sent the kids upstairs to pack."

Dean started up the stairs, gesturing for Sam and I to follow him. In Matt's room I pulled my EMF detector out of my pocket; I had never taken it out of my jacket earlier that day. The thing went crazy.

"Ok," I said. "Where could he have gone?"

"Anywhere if his parents weren't paying attention," Dean stated. "Which they probably weren't. They were rushing to get the hell out of here."

I sighed. "Ok. I might have a clue as to what's going on." Quickly I explained what Mia had told me, and the boys listened eagerly.

"Hold on," said Sam. He moved to the closet, wrenching open the door.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

Sam pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and shined it around the small space. "Look there," he said.

I peered closely. Scribbled onto the lower portion of the wall in red crayon was a drawing of two boys playing. I couldn't help a small smile as I realized what was going on, the familiar feeling of _game on_ rushing through my system.

A ghost that interceded on a girl's behalf to protect her from an abusive partner. A little boy that had disappeared with a ghost. Cans in the cabinet had sometimes been knocked down, like a child carelessly going through, searching for his favorite jar of sauce. Other times they'd been stacked neatly, like a mother reorganizing her child's mess.

"Small town like this?" muttered Dean. "No one just vanishes. I should've realized it earlier."

I gulped. _I_ should have realized it earlier.

"Ok, I don't understand," said Mr. Frea. "What are you thinking?"

Sam turned to them. "We're thinking Robert Unthur's wife and son never left."

I ignored the perplexed look on the Freas' faces.

Dean started pacing back and forth, thinking. "Ok, so maybe Robert comes home some nights after work, maybe he's a little drunk. Maybe he hits his wife a bit. His son too."

"That would explain why they left," I said. "But not why he hung himself a month later. He would've gone looking for them if they'd run off, not killed himself. Which means he knew exactly where they were the whole time."

Sam nodded. "It would have had to have been inconspicuous. People would notice a couple of freshly dug graves in the yard. It also had to be big enough for him to fit their luggage too, to make it look like they ran off."

"But why?" I asked. "Why would he kill them? Why would he kill himself?"

Dean shrugged. "Late night booze coupled with an already shitty husband. It was probably an accident. But then the wife and kid came back for revenge."

I nodded. That made sense. Where could Robert have hidden his wife's and son's bodies? Someone would have noticed him bringing them and their luggage out of town, and either way he had an alibi for the night they'd disappeared. Which meant that whatever he'd done, he'd done it quickly.

"The porch!" I yelled.

I ran from the room, ignoring the confused exclamations behind me. Within moments I had left the house, and was shining my flashlight around the perimeter of the porch.

There. A few boards were missing from the side, creating a hole just big enough for a small boy to crawl through. I pulled at the other boards, and was able to widen the gap considerably. It was now big enough for a grown man to crawl beneath the porch, dragging a large object.

"Lucy, don't do it!"

I ignored Dean's voice and crawled into the hole, and wasn't able to resist a smirk as he began cursing behind me. As soon as I was in there was a shuffling, and Dean began to crawl under.

"Matt?" I called. "Matty? My name is Lucy. Can you hear me?"

I cast my flashlight around, my eyes focusing on a flash of movement off to the side. The young boy from earlier that day was sitting in the dirt, hunched over as he played with something.

"Matt!" I called. I had to crawl towards him, but as I neared I saw that he was rolling a toy car around. "Are you ok?"

Matt glanced up at me. "Yeah," he said. "Why? Who're you?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm Lucy. It's time to go."

Matt frowned. "But I was playing," he said. "Willy and I were playing."

I gulped. "I'm sure Willy will understand. Tell him you'll see him tomorrow. It's bed time."

Matt sighed and nodded, glancing to a space somewhere beside him. "I'm sorry Willy," he said. "Goodnight."

I breathed a sigh of relief as Matt began to crawl out. Dean helped him out of the porch, and then he moved over to me, his flashlight in one hand and his rock salt gun in the other. I drew my own gun.

There was a curious looking mound near where Matt had been sitting, and Dean and I shifted towards it. It turned out to be suitcases, and when we opened them we found they were filled with clothes for a woman and small boy. Dean and I exchanged sad glances but continued forward, edging around the suitcases to look at what we knew was just behind them. I grimaced as my eyes fell on the two bodies; by now simply bones stripped of all flesh. Even their clothes were hanging in tatters.

I shuddered and looked away. Why was this bothering me so much? I'd seen bones before. I spent half my nights digging them up and torching them.

"It's because of what happened to them," whispered Dean. I glanced over at him in shock; how had he known what I was thinking? "It makes it sadder."

I nodded. Dean had the same look in his eyes that I was feeling, and in the darkness he reached over and squeezed my arm comfortingly.

"Guys!" called Sam. I glanced back to see Sam poking his head through the hole we had crawled through. "I sent the Freas away. They're going to wait for us outside our motel. Did you find them?"

"Yeah," called Dean. There was a rough edge to his voice that only Sam and I would ever be able to detect. With a sigh he turned back to the bodies before us.

"Do we have to burn the luggage too?" I asked.

Dean shrugged. "Not sure. We might as well, just to be safe."

I nodded and grabbed a suitcase, working on wriggling my way backwards. At the entrance Sam took the suitcase from me, and I moved aside so that Dean could shove the other one outside.

"Get the tarp from the car," he called. Sam nodded and disappeared, returning a few minutes later with a wide tarp that had probably seen better days.

Dean and I gingerly loaded the bodies onto the tarp, and though we tried to be gentle, they invariably fell apart. I grimaced as I picked up a piece of vertebrae, setting in delicately onto the pile forming on the plastic sheet.

"Make sure we've got everything," ordered Dean. "We have to get it all. Even the clothes."

I nodded and swept my flashlight around, scanning the ground for small bones or pieces of cloth that had fallen off the corpses. A metallic glint caught my eye and I edged towards it, picking a small gold wedding band off the ground. I gulped and quickly added it to the tarp, nodding to Dean that we were ready to go.

"Sam," I called at the edge of the hole. "Give us a hand here!"

There was no answer, and with a frown I clambered out. Sam was nowhere to be seen.

I sighed and turned around, grabbing the edge of the tarp. Together Dean and I managed to tug it out from under the porch, and then Dean himself emerged, covered in dirt. I doubted I looked much better.

"Sam?" he called. "Sammy?"

Nothing.

Now I was getting worried, and Dean and I started away from the porch, heading towards the car. Maybe Sam was getting supplies.

Sam was lying on his back on the ground, struggling to keep the little boy sitting on his chest from choking him. The kid was surprisingly strong- an aftereffect of being a ghost- but Sam managed to toss Willy Unthur off of him. As soon as the kid was off I fired off my rock salt gun, and with a shriek he flickered from view.

"You ok?" Dean hurried to Sam's side, and Sam nodded.

"Fine," he panted. "Damn, that kid is fast. I came to start getting the salt and gas; didn't see him coming."

Dean nodded, glancing back over to me. "We just pissed them off," he warned. "Not to mention they've probably figured out what we're about to do. Let's- Lucy!"

I didn't have a chance to react before I was knocked off my feet, giving a small shriek of fright as I flew through the air. I landed several feet away and rolled, scrambling to my feet. There was a shimmer in the air in front of me, and then Veronica Unthur appeared. There was a dark bruise around her throat where she had been choked to death, and in her hands she held what was probably her husband's belt.

In retrospect, shooting her son, even if it was only her son's ghost, might not have been my smartest idea.

She rushed me, and with a yelp I moved to the side. I tripped though, tumbling to the ground. Glancing up, I saw that it had been Willy who had tripped me. He had the same bruise around his neck as his mother.

Before either could do anything Sam and Dean both shot them. I scrambled to my feet and backed away, and Sam grabbed my arm.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Fine. We need to get those bones burned."

Dean nodded and grabbed a bag of salt from the trunk of the impala, and Sam grabbed a tank of gas. I dragged the tarp away from the house- the building didn't need any help falling apart- and as Dean began dumping salt over the bones I grabbed the suitcases. Sam stood to the side with his gun in his hands, eyes scanning around him.

He fired off two shots to my left, and I spun to see Veronica and Willy disappear. I drew my gun again, and as Dean began throwing gasoline over the bones and suitcases I fired at the mother and son as they appeared behind Dean.

As Dean tossed a match onto the bones I heard a chilling scream. Glancing around me, I saw Veronica and her son standing near the porch. They had been getting ready to come at us again.

Now both were slowly lighting on fire. Willy tried to charge forward again, but he barely made it two steps before he fell to his knees. His mother knelt by his side and wrapped him in a hug, forgetting completely about me as she saw to her son's terror, and as their ghosts became fully engulfed in flames I felt tears come to my eyes.

Then they disappeared, and I knew it was over.

I took a deep breath and glanced back to Sam and Dean. They didn't seem emotional about what had just happened, but then again they'd been doing this longer. They'd had more practice hiding it.

We left quickly, driving in silence back to the motel. The Freas were waiting for us in the parking lot, all bunched into their car. I knew the boys and I must've looked awful, because all four of their eyes widened as we climbed out of the impala.

"Let's get inside," suggested Dean. He led us all into the room he and Sam were sharing, and while the Freas sat on one of the beds the boys and I moved to the table. It didn't take long for Sam to assure them that the ghosts were gone, and the look of relief on their faces was clear as day.

"So is that it?" asked Mr. Frea.

Sam shrugged. "It is on our end. I'm sure the police are going to want to look into Danny Briant's death a bit more, but just stick with _he fell down the stairs_ and you should be good. Eventually this will all go away."

Mrs. Frea nodded. "Thank you," she whispered. She sniffed and stood, tugging Matt's arm to bring him with her. Somehow I doubted she'd let that boy out of her sight since we'd gotten him out from under the porch.

"Where will you go?" I asked. "I mean, something tells me you're not going back to the house."

Mr. Frea shook his head. "What I said about the police wanting us out for a few days is true. We've got to find somewhere to stay until the investigation is done."

Next to me Dean groaned, knowing what I was about to do.

"You can have my room," I said. I pointed to where my motel room was next door, smiling slightly at the shocked looks on the Freas' faces. "I can stay in here."

"You're sure?" asked Mrs. Frea.

I nodded. "Yeah. There're only two beds in there, but it's better than running all over town trying to find a motel with empty rooms. And I can kick these two to the same bed."

Mia glanced at Sam and Dean, who probably had identical annoyed expressions on their faces, and giggled.

"Thanks." Mr. Frea exchanged looks with his wife, and the two gave each other small nods of agreement. "Thank you."

I nodded. "No problem. Let me just clear my stuff out of there."

I did so quickly, taking over the bed furthest from the door in Sam and Dean's room. We each took turns in the shower, and once I finished I found myself sitting outside, needing the fresh air.

I glanced up from checking my phone as Mia slipped out of her room, and she sat beside me.

"What about you?" she asked. "Where are you guys headed now?"

I shrugged. "Not really sure. We sort of just follow the cases."

Mia blinked in surprise. "Are there a lot of them?"

"More than you'd think." I allowed myself a small chuckle. Even without the demons terrorizing Earth, there was still plenty going on. Ghosts, witches, and other such monsters, they were still around. If anything, the lack of competition by the demons had made them that much more prominent.

Sometimes I really wished I'd had a chance to do more during the Grace Crisis. A chance to get rid of the monsters for good. Another part of me was happy I hadn't. Sam and Dean were fueled by the chase; they needed to hunt. I was slowly falling into the same mindset as them. As much as we hated the late nights and the stress and the constant injuries, we _needed_ them.

"Here." Mia held out her phone, and hesitantly I took it. "Put your number in."

I frowned, but did as she said. "Why?"

Mia shrugged. "Just- just cos. What you do, it's got to be lonely. And no one else would believe me if I tried to tell them about this." She waved her arm around to indicate the hell that her life had just been. "And no one would believe you if you told them what you do. So if you ever need to talk, about- about whatever it is you do, or if you just need to bury your head in the sand for a bit, give me a call." She offered a thin smile, and I felt tears come to my eyes.

I was the reason her boyfriend was dead. I was some weird chick who showed up at her house in the middle of the night with a gun and a story about how I was going to kill a ghost. She should be terrified of me and what I was mixed up in. She should at least hate me for not getting things right the first time around. But instead she was exchanging numbers with me, offering herself up as my very first friend in this universe.

I paused a moment as I realized that.

I didn't have any friends here. Sam and Dean were like brothers and Cas was my boyfriend. I was friendly with some of their friends, like Jody Mills and Garth Fitzgerald, but I didn't actually have any friends of my own.

The thought was suddenly strangely appealing, almost painful as I pushed my phone at Mia. She quickly inputted her number, then reached out and squeezed my hand. I hadn't even realized I was crying, but then I felt a tear drip slowly down my cheek.

Mia gave a shaky laugh. "God," she whispered. "When did everything get so complicated?"

I chuckled. "It gets better," I offered.

"Really?"

I sighed. "No. I was trying to be comforting, but uh- yeah. Sorry."

Mia laughed. "It's fine." She paused for a moment, then raised her phone in the air. "Here's to complicated."

"Complicated and crappy," I agreed. "But worth it." We clunked our phones together, then fell back on the pavement laughing. It was probably from stress or lack of sleep, maybe both, but our little toast seemed much funnier than it normally would have.

After a few minutes Mia sighed and rose, stuffing her phone back in her pocket. "Night, Lucy."

I nodded and gave a small wave as she backed towards her door, flipping my phone around in my hand. "Night, friend," I whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

There turned out to be another case for us to work. Sam picked it up in the paper the morning after we dealt with the ghosts of Veronica and William Unther, and after breakfast we made our exit from the motel. This involved a rather teary goodbye on Mia's behalf, and though I was loathe to admit it, I was somewhat sorry to say goodbye to my first friend.

The case was a ways south; in a city that had been gradually growing in population over the last thirty years. It wasn't nearly as big as New York City, but it definitely had its dark corners. As Dean guided the impala into the city I used my phone to skim through news articles that pertained to the case.

Basically, someone called Harry Jameson had been running around the city beating people up. He did so mostly at night, though a few attacks had been during the day, and all on some not very upstanding citizens. Several drug dealers, some thwarted rapes, and some abusive partners. So far no one had died, though there were a few broken bones. Sam had almost gone past the article when he'd read it; it had seemed like a local vigilante case. Then something in the article had caught his eye, making him read it again.

Here was the thing; Harry Jameson had died three years ago.

I scratched at an itch on my nose as I finished skimming through the latest article, careful not to catch my hand on my red lipstick.

"So what are we thinking?" I asked. "Shape shifter?"

Both boys nodded.

"There's got to be a reason our shifter chose that face," Sam said. "I've been looking into Harry Jameson, but the local obituary was pretty vague about his death. I could hack police records, but not without better wifi." As he spoke he frowned and hit his phone against the palm of his hand, making a sour face as it took its sweet time pulling up results for his latest search.

"It might be easier if you two pretend to be FBI," I said. "This way the local police will keep you looped into the investigation."

"What about you?" asked Dean. "I'm guessing you're not planning on sitting this out."

"Of course not." _When did I ever sit out on a case?_ "I'm not sure what I'm gonna do yet."

Dean sighed. "Just be careful, ok? Let us know what you're going to do."

I nodded. "Aye, aye Captain."

In front of me Sam snickered, and Dean looked annoyed.

The first thing we did, like always, was find a motel to stay in. Sam and Dean changed into their suits and left, pulling uncomfortably at their collars the whole while. As they left I pulled my phone out of my pocket, dialing Cas's number. For a few minutes it rang, then it went to voicemail.

"Hey Cas, it's me. Just checking in. The boys and I picked up a case a few hours south of the last one." I quickly gave him the address of the motel. "Call me back tonight. I miss you."

With a sigh I hung up, tossing my phone on my bed. For a moment I sat there, drumming my fingers against my leg, and then an idea occurred to me. There weren't any maps of the town in the motel room, so I walked around to the lobby, grabbing several.

Back in the motel room, I dotted on each map where our shape shifting vigilante had struck. By the time I was done I had a series of red dots placed all over town, and set to finding a pattern.

I connected the dots in different ways on each map, trying to find a central place among them, somewhere relatively close to them all. Often I excluded some dots as I drew lines and circles, varying where I laid my designs. By the time Sam and Dean returned I had taken several more maps from the lobby, and was sitting on the little table in the corner of the room. On the floor and beds surrounding me were each map, each dotted and outlined.

"Whoa." Sam froze as he opened the door, then edged carefully inside. "What's all this?"

I scowled. "Maps of the city. I can't figure out the pattern."

Dean frowned. "Sorry?"

I sighed. "Whoever this person is, they're attacking people all over the city. But they've got to be coming from somewhere. Wherever it is, it should be central to these points; at least most of them. I've tried every different pattern I can think of, but none of them seem right."

"Somehow I don't think it's this one," Dean commented. He held up a map that had been crumpled and tossed to the side. On it were a series of red scribbles, eliminating the work I'd attempted on it.

I felt my cheeks color. "Yeah, uh, I sort of got angry."

"At a map?" asked Sam.

I scowled. "Shut up."

The boys chuckled and joined me, tiptoeing their way past the maps. I wasn't sure the table could take the weight of all three of us, but somehow it held, though it creaked as Sam shifted his weight.

 _It's holding for now,_ I thought.

"What'd you find out at the police station?" I asked.

"Not much," said Sam. "Harry Jameson got beat to death three years ago, but no one knows who did it. They're thinking drug deal gone wrong or something."

I nodded.

"It could be someone close to him doing this," reasoned Dean. "But it might not be. I tend to think it is though."

"Where did he have friends in the city? What about family?"

"All over," Sam said. "He was pretty well liked. Not the super popular kind, but the kind that just got along with everyone."

"So basically that's a dead end."

"Yep." Dean sighed and glanced down at the maps spread out. They were our only lead.

For a few minutes we stared at the maps together, none of us with any idea about what the pattern was. Glancing back and forth between the two of them, I saw that Sam was tapping a finger against his chin, his eyebrows drawn together broodingly. Dean had a pained expression on his face, and was rubbing at his temple as though a headache was forming. I reached behind me and grabbed the Advil to hand to him.

"Ok," said Dean. He took another moment to peer at the maps, then shook his head. "I got nothing."

"Same." Sam looked like he was starting his own migraine, and Dean passed the Advil.

"So what are we gonna do?" I asked. "Hit the streets tonight? Try and find this guy on our own?"

"Maybe," said Sam. "Let's listen in on the police scanner."

"But by the time we hear anything, whatever it is will have already happened," I objected.

Sam frowned. "True."

"So you stay here and listen to the scanner, and Sam and I will drive around," suggested Dean. "Together, we might be able to catch something."

I snorted. "No chance."

Dean sighed. "Lucy."

"You're not keeping me cooped up in the motel room to keep me safe. I'm a hunter now; that means I go out onto the streets."

Dean's nose crinkled in annoyance, but he didn't say anything. He knew I was right.

"We need to figure out this pattern," Sam said.

For another half hour we mused over the maps, throwing suggestions back and forth to each other. Finally Sam sat bolt upright, eyes widening.

"Hold on," he said. "I've got an idea. Do you have another map?"

I shook my head. "I can get one," I offered. I scooted off the edge of the table, weaving my way delicately through the maze of maps spread out on the floor. I jogged quickly to the front of the motel, smiling softly in embarrassment at the raised eyebrow the guy at the front desk gave me.

"Another one?" he asked. "You're cleaning out the rack."

"Sorry." I grabbed three maps, just in case, and started back out the door. Behind me the clerk chuckled.

Back in the room Sam grabbed the map, spreading it out on the table and grabbing the red marker I'd been using. It didn't take long to dot the locations of each attack, but then, to my surprise, Sam started adding more information. Writing as small as he could, next to each dot Sam jotted down the time and date of the attacks.

"Ok," he said. He began to trace, moving in chronological order, and Dean and I watched his progress. "There."

I surveyed the map. The pattern now went in a sort of swirly, starting towards the center and working slowly outwards. Dean grinned and pulled the map towards him; now we were getting somewhere.

"Of course," he said. "Whoever this is starts out small, close to home. Picks a random direction one night and walks until he finds a crime to bust. Next night he decides to go in another direction, so that he's not focusing in one area. As time goes on and he gets more confident he branches out, moves further away from home. And he's still finding crime all over the city, so that he isn't focusing on one particular section."

"But what about these irregularities?" I asked. I pointed to the few places where the swirly pattern was disrupted, the line dipping back towards the center of the page, only to head back out again for the next point.

"The times are different," Sam told me. "These," and he pointed to the irregularities, "have later times. Closer to morning. Maybe he got a late start, knew he couldn't go far out before the sun came up and people started noticing a vigilante running through the streets. So he stays closer to home, so he can get back quickly."

I nodded. That made sense. I peered closely at the area at the center of the pattern. It was just off the city center, though not by much, encompassing a couple of neighborhoods.

"So we hang around there tonight?" I asked. "See if we catch anyone sneaking around?"

Dean nodded. "Sounds about right." He sighed, glancing over to me. "I don't suppose you-"

"No." My statement was firm, verging on annoyed. "I'm coming."

Dean huffed.

I started rounding up the maps, wanting something to do before Dean and I started fighting. I couldn't fit them all in the garbage can, and I made a mental note to leave a nice tip for the poor maid who had to clean the room.

We spent the rest of the day cleaning the arsenal of weapons in the car. By that point I was well versed in all the nuances of taking apart, cleaning, and reassembling a gun. The boys and I fell into a comfortable silence as we worked; somehow the familiar feel of oil and metal was comforting. It brought about feelings of long distance drives and road side camps, nights spent gazing at the stars. Long hours poring over cases and the final, satisfying kill at the end.

More importantly, it also felt like stiff leather jackets and faded plaid shirts. Like family. I knew my new little family, as dysfunctional as it could sometimes be, wouldn't exist without the job. And though Sam, Dean, and Cas could never replace my original family, could never replace my parents or the twins, I still loved them. Just as much as I loved the family I'd left behind.

The last thing I polished was my angel blade. I always took care to keep it clean. I had no idea if it could rust, but I didn't intend to find out. Cas had given me that knife, given it so that I could keep myself safe. It was heartwarming, to say the least.

Plus, the knife had proven itself useful.

After a while, as we neared the bottom of the pile of weapons, Sam slipped out to stock up on other supplies. When he returned a half hour later he had bought two new bags of salt and had refilled our two tanks of gas.

When the weapons were clean we put them all back in the car. Everything had its place, and though nothing was marked, we all knew what went where. We still had a few hours left of sunlight, so Dean popped the front hood and started giving the impala's different parts a quick clean. Nothing special; he didn't start taking things apart, he didn't make too big of a mess. He still needed a shower when he was done though.

As the sun finished setting we pulled into a drive through to get some dinner. As I dabbed my fries in ketchup I found my phone buzzing, and glanced down to see that I had a text from Mia.

 **Hey,** it read. **How are you?**

For a moment I sat there, not sure how to respond. It had been so long since I'd had a friend to text; it felt odd. Then I sighed. It wasn't like the boys and I didn't talk; I hadn't lost social skills after meeting them. Some would say I'd gained them; it took great effort sometimes not to start hitting those two brothers.

But how was I supposed to describe what I was doing? How was I supposed to talk about hunting with someone who didn't hunt themselves? It seemed ludicrous.

But it wasn't like Mia didn't know what I was doing. It was just sort of like talking about some sport that your friend didn't know much about. If that sport involved burning bodies and shooting things.

 **I'm not bad,** I sent back. **How're you?**

It didn't skip my mind that I didn't mention what I was doing. Which Mia hadn't actually asked about, so that wasn't important, but I still felt awkward casually mentioning that I was hunting. _By the way, I'm sitting in my brother's car with a gun stuffed in my belt getting ready to go hunt down some shape shifting vigilante. No biggie._

Despite my trepidations, it was still exciting having someone to text with. It felt almost normal, like I had gotten a bit of my old life back. Like I was sitting in my mom's car texting Jill or Cassie, my two best friends growing up.

 **So, what're you doing?**

Crap. Now I had to figure out how to talk about hunting. For a moment I stared at my phone screen, pondering over how much I could say without things getting weird, how much I even wanted to talk about the job.

As the screen started to get dark I tapped on it, then began to type.

 **Working a case. What about you?**

That didn't seem too bad. Hopefully Mia wouldn't get too weirded out by just the mention of hunting, and I wasn't forcing any details on her. I hit send before my nerve could break.

 **Not much. Listening to music.**

A moment later another text came in.

 **What's the case about?**

I sighed. Now things were getting more complicated. Why did things always have to get complicated?

 **There's a vigilante running around a ways south of your town,** I told her. **We think it might be a shape shifter.**

 **Really?** Responded Mia. **Wow. Why do you think it's a shape shifter?**

I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. She was asking questions, which meant she wasn't weirded out by hunting, or at least not completely weirded out. And she wasn't asking any of the harder questions, like what we were gonna do if we found the shifter. The truth was even I didn't know.

What were we gonna do? It wasn't like we could turn the shifter over to the police. Their disguise was genius; there was no DNA evidence to prove their identity. Either way, all they had to do was change appearance and they could probably confuse the police as to how some random person had ended up in a police cell. They'd be set free.

I bit my lip. Would we kill the vigilante? Technically they were acting outside the law, breaking the law. But how many laws had the boys and I broken? Probably most of them.

But the vigilante was hurting people. Sam, Dean, and I only hurt the monsters we hunted; we were careful not to involve others when we could avoid it.

But the vigilante was only hurting bad people. It's not like he or she was just beating up random people in the street. Each had been involved in some crime of their own, which the vigilante had interrupted.

I quickly responded to Mia's text, breaking off my train of thought. **The shifter's running around looking like someone who died three years ago. Either it's a shifter or zombies are suddenly real.**

 **Lol** , came Mia's response.

"Hey guys," I called.

"Hmm?" asked Sam.

"What are we gonna do when we find the shifter?" I asked. "We can't go to the police. Are we gonna kill them?"

I saw Sam and Dean trade looks. I was guessing they hadn't really thought about that much themselves.

"I don't know," Dean admitted. "I guess maybe we'll talk to them, see if we can convince them to stop."

"And if they don't?"

Sam wrung his hands together. "I don't know." He frowned. "First let's concentrate on finding them."

I nodded, glancing out the window. The sun was finishing its descent, and darkness had finally fallen over the streets. We slipped quickly from the car and spread the map of the city over the front hood, holding flashlights over the page.

"Ok," said Dean. "I say we split up. We'll cover more ground that way. We've got three neighborhoods where this person could be coming from, so we each take one. Lucy, you go here. Sammy, you're here."

I couldn't help but notice that Dean had positioned himself in between Sam and I, so he could rush to either of our aid if need be. I didn't comment though, merely nodding. I took a moment to check my weapons; my usual pocket knife, a silver knife strapped to my ankle, and my angel blade and a gun containing silver bullets stuffed in my belt. I was ready.

"Be careful," Sam said.

I rolled my eyes and nodded, pulling out my phone.

 **Got to go,** I sent to Mia. I didn't elaborate as to why, merely stuffing my phone back in my pocket. I didn't want to be distracted in the middle of a hunt.

The boys and I sent each other final smiles before turning away from each other. We each started off in separate directions, and I began walking alone through the dark streets, scanning the shadows around me for vigilantes.


	4. Chapter 4

I was uneasy. Why, I wasn't positive. Sure, I was walking around the streets of some city at night, searching for a shape shifting vigilante, but I'd done weirder things. It wasn't like my life was normal. Or safe.

So why was my skin crawling? I paused under the light of a streetlamp, doing my best to collect my thoughts. A moment later the hair on the back of my neck stood on edge, and a strengthening of the uneasy feeling in my gut forced me out of the light. I slipped into the shadows, resisting the urge to hide behind a dumpster.

It felt like someone was watching me. Why? Who would be watching me? I shuddered at all the possibilities, paranormal and otherwise, and put my hand to the angel blade stuffed in my belt. The touch of the cool metal under my fingers helped to calm me somewhat, though my heart was still racing.

I stayed where I was for several moments though, pressing my back against the nearest brick wall and peering anxiously around me. I couldn't see anyone besides me on the streets, and there were no suspicious noises. Nothing to suggest someone was creeping around, trying to sneak up on me.

I took a deep breath and sighed. I had a job to do. I was hunting a monster; I couldn't sit there and hide from a scary feeling. It was my job to find the scary feeling and remind it that even monsters should be afraid of the dark.

I'd do that later. For now I had a job to do. Forcing myself to step forward, I started slowly down the street again, eyes scanning nervously around. If I had been tense before it was nothing compared to how tightly wound I was now. I felt like a string stretched too tight. One wrong move and _snap._

I jumped as a sound filled the air, barely keeping from screeching. The sound turned out to be a small group of friends stumbling their way out of a bar, laughing and joking amongst each other. I watched them for a moment, but they didn't seem to be making their way to one of the cars lining the curb, so I left them alone.

Fifteen minutes later and I was still wandering around. The same a half hour after that. There wasn't much else I could do. It wasn't like I had a vigilante tracker; some little device that would beep and guide me in the right direction. Scowling as I inhaled the frankly disgusting stench coming from an alleyway holding an overflowing dumpster, I wished I did have one.

By then the feeling that I was being watched had faded. It had vanished rather suddenly, though it took me a while after that to wind down. Or at least wind down somewhat. Considering what I was doing at the time, total relaxation probably wasn't a good idea.

I frowned and glanced down as my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Dean.

"Hey," I said.

"Sam's tailing him," Dean said. He sounded out of breath, like he was running, and I guessed he was already racing toward Sam. "Crescent Avenue, last he said."

"On my way." I hung up the phone, shoving it in my pocket. Then, for a moment I just stood there. There was no way I could run all the way across the city on time to catch the vigilante. I didn't even know my way around. I needed a car.

It was a simple enough matter to steal one. I took one from a side alley, where there weren't any cameras, and soon had the engine going. I had become disturbingly practiced at stealing cars over the past year, and though I still felt a bit guilty whenever circumstances forced me to take one, the feeling was no longer gut wrenching.

Then I pulled out my phone and typed Crescent Avenue into the maps setting. It took a moment, but soon I had a route planned out, and I put the car into drive and hit the gas.

It took a lot longer than I would have liked to get to Crescent Avenue. I had to stop for red lights and stop signs, not to mention the occasional pedestrian, and I couldn't speed too much without drawing attention to myself. As I neared Crescent Avenue I exited out of the mapping system; Sam and the shifter were no longer there.

"Ok." I got out of the car, turning slowly in a circle. "If I was a shape shifting vigilante, what direction would I go in?"

I had no idea.

I sighed, pulling out my phone and dialing Sam's number.

"Where are you?" I asked.

Sam sighed, and I could hear him panting on the other end of the line. "A few blocks away from Crescent," he said. "The shifter got away."

"Damn." I scowled into thin air and kicked at a beer bottle littering the sidewalk. It went skidding away, and I resisted the urge to go pick it up and find a trash can for it. "Now what?"

There was a pause, during which time the only sounds were Sam's heavy breathing and the late night city noises around me. "Head back to the motel," Sam ordered. "I'll meet you there. I'll call Dean."

"Got it." I hung up the phone and got back in the car, leaning back in the seat with a disappointed sigh.

Our plans of chancing across the shifter while wandering around at night had been farfetched to begin with. It was a miracle Sam had even seen the person. There had never really been a chance of us actually taking him or her down. Not when we were split up, and when the shifter had the home-turf advantage.

I didn't break any traffic laws bringing the car back to where I'd taken it. Once I'd parked I did my best to wipe my prints away with the hem of my shirt, then started down the street on foot.

A few minutes later my phone buzzed. Again I answered it, leaning against a building as I did so I wasn't standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Hello?"

"Hello."

I grinned as I recognized Cas's voice, and despite the sour mood that had been settling over me, a happy little bubble filled up in my stomach.

"Hey Angel Dust."

Cas chuckled at the nickname, and I drank in the sound.

"Where are you?" he asked. "You're not at the motel."

"Uh- hold on." I peered around me for a street sign. "On Berkshire Road. Right next to a library."

Instinct had me spinning around a moment later, and my eyes fell on the figure standing feet away. Tall, dressed in a suit and trench coat, with dark hair that fell into deep blue eyes in just the perfect way. A devil's grin on an angel's face. I knew how many emotions could swirl around in those eyes, but the only thing I saw there at that moment was joy.

We all but launched ourselves at each other, falling into a deep, passionate kiss. I ended up standing on my toes, my fingers curling into Cas's hair, and he pulled me up and against him, his hands fitting perfectly against the small of my back. Electric tingles ran up my spine, and we automatically clutched each other closer.

When we pulled away we were panting. For several moments we stayed where we were, resting our foreheads together. Cas's breath was hot on my face, sending a new set of shocks running through my skin.

"I missed you," he whispered at last.

I smiled, pulling Cas into a hug and resting my head on his shoulder. "I missed you too. Are you done in heaven?"

Cas nodded; I could feel the motion against the side of my head. "For now," he told me. "I'll have to go back in another month or so."

I pulled away and sent him a scowl that said I wasn't happy. Cas let out a short laugh and intertwined our fingers.

"I know," he said. "I wish I could stay here with you."

I grinned. Why, I don't know. It's not like I hadn't already known that. All the same, I found myself grinning like a kid on Christmas.

"Come on," I said. "Let's get back to the motel."

Cas nodded, and a second later we had landed. I shook my head; flying didn't bother me like it did Dean, but the rapid change in location was still somewhat unsettling. I felt like I should at least feel something, some jolt like I was landing or taking off, some disturbance in the force, or at least a moment of blackness where I couldn't see anything. But we travelled too fast for that, and the flight was far too gentle for me to feel anything.

Either that or my jedi skills needed work.

I sent Sam and Dean texts that told them to head straight for my room when they got back to the motel. When I glanced up from my phone I found Cas examining some of the maps I'd tried to clean up earlier.

"What's all this?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Work for the case."

Cas's eyebrow arched. "This seems a bit… excessive. I thought you hated research."

I bit my lip, uncomfortable. "I do. But this case needed it. We still haven't caught our goon."

For a moment Cas inspected me silently, and then he nodded and replaced the crumpled up maps in the garbage. He settled on one of the beds, and eagerly I climbed up next to him. We curled up together, me all but sitting in his lap, our legs draped over each other. Cas's arms wove around me, and I grasped his forearms with my own hands, pulling him tighter against me. We were a mass of tangled limbs. It was rapidly becoming one of my favorite ways to sit.

"What's the case about?" he asked.

I quickly explained the case to Cas, then detailed our failed attempt to catch the vigilante that night.

"I knew it was a long shot," I finished. "But still…"

Cas planted a kiss on my head. "I'm sorry," he offered.

I smiled, though he couldn't see, and either way I doubted it was much of a smile. "Thanks."

For a few minutes we sat in silence. I wasn't sure what Cas was thinking, but I was mulling over the case in my head. I only glanced up again when a key rattled in the door, and in stalked Sam and Dean, both looking annoyed.

The annoyance quickly faded from their faces as they spotted the angel I was curled up with.

"Cas!" Sam grinned and strode forward, and I shifted off Cas so he could stand. The two wrapped each other in a bear hug, and then Dean swooped in.

"When'd you get here?" he asked.

Cas smiled. "About ten minutes ago."

"Why didn't you let us know?" Sam was beginning to pout.

Cas's eyes widened slightly, and he looked like he was struggling to come up with a suitable excuse.

"I'm sorry," I called out. "Did you want to watch us make out?"

Dean looked horrified, and Sam made a good natured face before breaking down into laughter at the look on Dean's face. "No," he chuckled. "Ok. Point taken."

Cas came to sit with me again, blue eyes twinkling. Sam and Dean sat on the other bed, and I felt the mood of the room grow serious. It was time to get to work.

"So, what happened?" I asked.

Sam sighed. "I saw the shifter moving around on Crescent," he said. "He was using the roofs, so I was the only one who saw. I called Dean and started to follow, but he noticed me. Then it was pretty much a chase across the rooftops."

"Where'd you lose him?" I grabbed our one good map as I spoke, and Sam frowned as he thought back.

"Not sure," he admitted. "Franklin Avenue, I think."

I nodded and drew a dot on the appropriate avenue, and we all gathered around to look at the map.

"Ok," said Dean. "So that's pretty close to the center of our pattern."

I nodded. "The shifter probably headed home."

"Don't shape shifters shed skins?" asked Cas.

"Yeah, why?"

Cas's eyes roamed over the map. "Well, the shape shifter wouldn't want to do that at home. It would be too obvious. Not to mention smelly. They've probably got someplace where they can change skins and dispose of them where no one will notice."

"True." Sam frowned. "Crap. That changes everything."

Dean nodded. "The center of our pattern might just be where it changes shape. Not its house."

"Well we can still trap it there," I commented. I paused; we were still unsure what the next step would be.

"Yeah," agreed Dean.

"Wherever it is, the shifter probably headed back there," Sam offered. "It probably tossed in the towel for the night."

Dean nodded. "The realization that someone is after it probably spooked it into hiding. It might not show again for a while." He frowned. "Do you think it knows you're a hunter?"

Sam shrugged. "Who knows? It might guess. It probably did."

"Probably," I said. "If he thought you were some bad guy that had gotten too close he'd have pounded your head in. I bet he only ran cos he figured you're a hunter."

Sam frowned and touched a hand to his head, as though to make sure it was still in one piece.

"So now what?" asked Dean. He glanced back and forth between the rest of us.

"Let's go out tomorrow," Cas suggested. "We'll if we can find out where the shape shifter is changing its skins. Then we wait there for it."

"We?" asked Dean. "You in?"

Cas nodded. "The angels don't need me at the moment, and I've worked cases with you before. Why not?"

"Cool." Sam stood and rolled his head around. "I'm beat. I'm heading to bed."

Dean nodded. He was halfway to the door before he froze, turning back to Cas and I. "Cas, you go. I'll sleep in here tonight."

Cas and I both frowned.

"What?" I asked.

Dean shot me a look. "Do you think I'm stupid?" he asked.

I lifted an eyebrow. "Do you want me to answer that?"

Dean ignored Sam's snickers in the background. "He's your boyfriend," he reminded me.

"Yes, we know," Cas commented. There was a rather devilish smile on the angel's lips as we traded looks.

Dean scowled. "You're not sleeping in the same room together."

"We've done it before."

"That was before you were dating."

I frowned. Technically we'd slept in the same room since then, but Dean didn't need to know that. It's not like we did anything. Anything much.

"Really?" Cas asked.

Dean grabbed Cas by the sleeve of his trench coat and shoved him toward the door. "Really. Get out."

"But I don't sleep," Cas complained. "What am I supposed to do all night?"

"What do you normally do?" asked Sam. He wriggled his eyebrows slightly, glancing surreptitiously between Cas and I.

I glared at him. "Not helping, Sam."

"Not trying to."

Cas sighed. We both knew Dean had us beat. For a moment I considered threatening to sneak out, but I wouldn't put it past Dean to knock both Cas and I out and tie us up. Apparently Cas was thinking the same thing, because he kept his mouth shut.

He stepped forward for one last kiss, and we drew it out as long as we could. Partially because we were still recovering from being apart for so long, partially just to mess with Dean.

"Goodnight," whispered Cas.

"Night."

With a sigh and a final glare at Dean Cas slunk out the door, and looking like he was enjoying the entire thing Sam followed. The door clicked shut, and I turned and glared at Dean.

He was standing just behind me, his arms crossed and a smug smirk on his face.

"Don't feel bad," he told me. "If you want I'll cuddle with you." He opened his arms for a hug and gave me a deceptively sweet smile, and I had to resist the urge to hit him.

"I hate you," I muttered.

Dean's smile only grew bigger as he reached out to ruffle my hair. "Love you too, Lucy."


	5. Chapter 5

I tried to stay up, so that once Dean fell asleep I could sneak out and have Cas meet me. Unfortunately, Dean seemed to have guessed my plans. He pretended to fall asleep quickly so that he could surprise me if I tried to sneak off, attempting to do a fake snore that was probably the worst I'd ever seen. And I'd seen my six year old brother try that.

The next thing I knew it was morning. Dean was throwing open the curtains to my little motel room, letting the sun hit me full glare in the face.

"Ugghh." I turned over onto my other side, ignoring Dean's laughter from behind me.

"Morning," he called. "Sleep well?"

"Screw you."

Dean chuckled again and came to shake my shoulder. "Come on," he said. "Time to get up. Don't make me throw water on you."

I shot a one eyed glare at him. "You wouldn't."

Dean's grin only grew bigger. "I would."

Upon thinking about it for a moment I realized he really would. I shot out of bed, and once more ignoring Dean, slammed the bathroom door behind me.

By the time I'd finished in the shower Cas and Sam had arrived with breakfast. Cas and I sat together as I ate, which basically meant I sat in his lap. Dean seemed slightly annoyed by that, so Cas and I started to steal quick kisses and make small puns that had Sam cackling and Dean turning a rather unhealthy shade of green.

"Ok," Sam said. He crumpled up his McDonalds wrapper and took a long draught of his coffee. "So, what's the plan?"

"You bring us to where you lost the shifter," Dean instructed. "Then we start combing the surrounding area. Look for shape shifter skins."

"It'll probably be in an abandoned building," I added. "He or she would want privacy, wouldn't want anyone stumbling upon their little lair."

"It would be a tall building too," Cas reasoned. "If the shape shifter is travelling on the roofs, their starting point would need to be about the same height as the surrounding buildings, so they can jump around."

"Right," I breathed. I hadn't thought of that, but it was brilliant. "Good thinking."

Cas looked so proud of himself, and I rewarded him with a kiss.

"You two done making out?" asked Dean. He stood and grabbed his coat. "We have a case to work."

"What's the matter Dean?" I asked.

Dean shot me a glare, and I didn't bother trying to hide my smile.

We drove down to Franklin Avenue, parking the car outside a little deli. From there we peered out the windows at the surrounding street, trying to see if there were any buildings there that the shifter might be using.

"What about there?" asked Sam. He pointed toward the other end of the street, to a tall ramshackle of a building.

Cas vanished from beside me. Sam, Dean, and I barely had time to realize this when he appeared again, shaking his head.

"No," he said. "It's under construction; there are workers in there. I think they're turning it into a small shopping center."

"So no way our shifter could sneak in and out of there every night without being seen," pointed out Dean.

"You know what would've been helpful," I mused. "If we had bothered to research the area last night, figure out which buildings are inhabited or not. Why didn't we think of that?"

Dean sighed. "Cos we're idiots."

"Hold on," said Sam. "I can do it." He pulled out his phone and began typing, and the rest of us waited in impatient silence.

"Ok," Sam said. "There're a couple uninhabited apartments on this street, and a few streets over there's an abandoned factory."

"What're the addresses?" asked Cas.

Sam quickly relayed the information, and Cas vanished. A minute later he appeared again, falling into a sitting position as he did to avoid banging his head against the roof of the car.

"It's the factory," he told us. "There's a dumpster behind it where the shifter is throwing out skins, and it's clear he's been there."

Dean put the car in drive, and two minutes later we were parking in front of the factory. We slipped inside as inconspicuously as we could, and Cas led us up to the top floor. There we found, amid the tattered remains of abandoned machines, piles of neatly folded black shirts and pants. Combat boots, also black, were set to the side, and a dirty rag and can of polisher to the side indicated that the boots had recently been scrubbed clean of blood.

In one corner of the room was a stash of medical supplies. I wasn't sure why the shifter had bothered with it- he or she would heal from any injuries not inflicted by silver, and only hunters carried around silver weapons- but hey, I could appreciate their readiness.

I peered out the window. There was a fire escape that, though rickety in appearance, seemed sturdy enough, and led to the roof. I had Cas fly me down to the dumpster below the window, where we uncovered rotting shape shifter skins and tattered clothes- discarded after being ruined in fights.

"Yep," I said as we landed beside Sam and Dean. "This is the place."

Dean nodded. "So," he said. "Here's the question. Do we just stay here and wait, or try something else?"

"They seemed pretty clever to me," Sam said. "I feel like he or she would realize we're here."

Cas went to the window and peered around us. "So we watch from the other buildings," he recommended. "One of the empty apartments is right across the street; we'll be able to see the factory from there."

I grinned, catching on. "When we see the shifter come in we surround him. Someone will have to be on the roof, so he can't run that way, and the rest of us come in from the stairs."

"I could just fly you all in," suggested Cas.

I nodded. "And then he's cornered."

Cas and I shared grins, so proud of our plan, then turned to Sam and Dean. The two of them traded looks, shrugged, and nodded their consent.

* * *

Stakeouts are boring. We spent the rest of the day in our abandoned apartment of choice, not wanting the shifter to see us trying to sneak in later that night, polishing weapons and trading small talk. Eventually Cas and I slipped away to the other end of the apartment, and Sam managed to keep Dean from bugging us for an hour or two. Curled up together, mine and Cas's voices lowered as we began talking about more personal topics, occasionally breaking for light yet passionate kisses. We were forced to emerge only when Dean started complaining that he was hungry.

Cas popped to the nearest store, grabbing sandwiches and pie. We ate slowly, knowing we had plenty of time until the sun finished setting, and I stole some of Dean's pie. This earned an earful of complaining from him, but I decided it was his punishment from splitting Cas and I up the night before.

As the sun finally sank below the horizon we took turns sitting at the window, watching the factory across the street for the shifter. We had no idea which direction he would come from. We could just see the main entrance from our apartment though, and the fire escape that the shifter seemed to be using was right in plain view. Either way, when he or she did show, we would see him.

That happened about two hours after the sun set. Dean was keeping watch at that point, and Sam, Cas, and I were playing a card game toward the center of the room when Dean jumped upright, waving us over to the window.

"He just went in," he told us.

"You sure?" I asked. "Did you get a good look at him?"

Dean shook his head. "No. He was wearing a hoodie. But he walked right in the building."

I shrugged. It was good enough for me. We waited a minute, then Cas flew us to the second floor of the building. A moment later he disappeared, moving to block the fire escape.

"Let's go," said Sam.

We crept forward, peering cautiously inside the room at the third floor of the factory. Wherever the shifter was he was blocked from our view by a piece of machinery that had been left over, but we could hear him moving around. Judging by the grunting, pained sounds I was hearing he was changing skins, and wasn't having a fun time with it.

The boys burst in without warning. I followed after them, my silver gun held ready, and found one very frightened shifter, clad only in his underwear, sprinting for the window. He skidded to a stop when Cas materialized in front of him, cussing and launching a spinning kick at my boyfriend.

Cas went flying backward, and before he had a chance to stand again the shifter was pushing open the window.

"Cas!"

Cas waved me away as I moved toward him. "I'm fine," he assured me. He stood, and together we watched as Sam and Dean followed the shifter out the window.

"They're not gonna catch him," I realized.

Cas shook his head. "Come here," he ordered. He grabbed my hand, and a moment later we were on the roof.

The shifter was sprinting west, and Cas flew us so that we appeared right in his path. This time we were ready for his attack, both of us dodging out of the way. Then we attacked at once, from opposite sides.

To my surprise, the shifter was annoyingly good at fending us off. Even when Sam and Dean arrived a moment later it took a minute to subdue him. That happened with me clobbering him over the head with the butt of my angel blade, which the shifter had nearly sent skidding off the roof of the building we were on halfway through the fight.

As the shifter collapsed I cast a glance around the group. Cas had a bloody nose, though I was sure he barely noticed and had already healed from it. Sam was holding his wrist, and Dean was pressing a hand to the back of his head. I was sore in several places, but I didn't think I would have any permanent damage.

I took a deep breath. "I guess all that training did come in handy."

The boys chuckled.

"Everyone alright?" asked Dean.

I gave a thumbs up, but no one was believing Sam's pained nod. Cas seized Sam's arm, then proclaimed as a blue glow spread over Sam's wrist that the bone was fractured.

"Stupid ninja shape shifter," Sam muttered.

Dean snorted, rolling his eyes as Cas moved on to his head.

"Let's get him inside," I suggested.

Cas slung the shifter over his shoulder and disappeared, leaving the rest of us to pick our way across the roofs. By the time we joined Cas he had found a chair and rope and had tied the shifter to it. He stood as we slid in the window, having finished the last knot.

"I think he's going to be out for a while," he cautioned. "You hit him pretty hard."

I wasn't sure if I should've been feeling more upset or proud by that, or which was more prevalent. I did catch the proud looks that all three boys aimed at me, and I widely ignored them. Instead I moved to the navy sweatshirt, baggy jeans, and beat up sneakers that had been discarded, rifling through the pockets.

"Here we go," I declared. I flipped open the shifter's wallet, quickly scanning for some sort of ID. The first thing I saw was a learner's permit.

"Crap," I muttered. I pulled it out of the wallet, using my flashlight to read it. "This kid's only sixteen."

There were several curses from behind me. "What's his name?" asked Dean.

"Wesley Burt," I said. I surveyed the picture next to the name. The boy in the photo had dark brown hair and blue eyes. He had a small smile on for the camera in his photo, but it looked like it was forced.

I sighed. It was bad enough we were still unsure about our course of action, but now he was a kid. It suddenly occurred to me that we could just untie him and leave town, slip away before he woke. We didn't have to deal with this. Just this once, we could let something slip by.

No. We couldn't do that. We had to see this case through to the end, for better or worse. That was our job. We couldn't back out just because it got tough.

Sensing my unhappiness, Cas came and squeezed my shoulder, gently pulling the permit and wallet out of my hands. After they had been replaced in the shape shifter's pockets he lead me to the corner of the room, and I buried my face in his shoulder and let myself forget about the case for a few minutes.

My peace was shattered when there was a moan from the center of the room, and I glanced up with dread to see the shifter slowly rolling his head around. A moment later he seemed to remember what had happened because he jolted upright, stopped only by the cords binding him to the chair.

It was hard to see him in the dim light, but I knew he was still wearing the skin of Harry Jameson. Blond hair and green eyes, a build that was somewhat larger than his natural one.

"It's ok," I said. I held my hands up as I approached, my heart pounding in my throat. "We're not- Let's just talk."

I barely stopped myself from promising that we weren't there to hurt him. The truth was I had no idea if we were. Wesley seemed to realize that, because he shot me a disbelieving scowl and strained against the ropes.

"Hey, kid," said Dean. "Would you just stop? Listen to us. Ok? Just for a minute."

Wesley stopped straining. "You're hunters," he spat.

Dean nodded. "We are."

"Then you're here to kill me."

"Not necessarily." Sam stepped forward, doing his best to keep his voice low and soothing. "We're honestly not quite sure what we're gonna do. Right now we just want to talk."

Wesley's eyes flickered back and forth between us, narrowed. Slowly though they relaxed, and though he still looked tense, he gave a curt nod that said to go ahead.

Sam sighed in relief. "Have you killed anybody?" he asked.

Wesley's answer was immediate. "No."

"Will you?"

"No."

Dean scowled. "How do you know that?" he asked.

"I don't kill."

Dean shrugged. "Accidents happen. Mistakes. One night you let your anger get away from you, go too far. You don't know if you're telling the truth. You can't."

Wesley's eyebrows lifted. "You sound like you're speaking from experience.

Dean gulped, his face paling ever so slightly. Before he could respond I stepped forward, giving Dean a warning look.

"Why do you do this?" I asked. "The whole vigilante thing. Why?"

"Why do you hunt?" asked Wesley. "The same reason. There are bad things out there, and the law isn't always enough."

I bit my lip and stepped back, somewhat afraid of the part of me that agreed with him. I traded looks with Cas, but for once I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"You've come here because I'm something that the law can't handle," pressed Wesley. "You're taking matters into your own hands. How is that any different than what I do?" He paused for a moment, then continued. "Oh yes, that's right. _I_ don't kill. _You_ do. So when you think about it, who's really the monster here?"

I gulped, backing away. The little voice in the back of my mind teasing the possibility that he was right was now screaming, and I just wanted it to shut up. Even Cas's hand around my own didn't quiet it, didn't stop my heaving breaths.

I retreated to a corner of the room with Sam, Dean, and Cas, and we put our heads together. I could see that all three of them were uneasy.

"He has a point," said Sam. He shook his head, as though he couldn't believe he had just said that. "I hate to admit it, but he does."

I nodded silently, and Dean sighed. "So what do we do?" he asked.

"Hold on." Cas stalked over to Wesley. "Do you plan on stopping?"

Wesley's eyes burned as they locked with Cas's, and for a moment my breath caught in hope.

"No."

I nearly sagged against the wall in defeat as Cas returned to us with a sigh. Running a hand through my hair, I turned back to the boys.

"Now what?"

Dean shrugged. "No idea."

For a few minutes we were all silent, each of us thinking the same thing.

"Could we-" Sam said at last.

"No," said Cas. He frowned, blue eyes troubled. "Possibly. Probably not. I don't know."

I sighed. We were going round and round in circles, and we still didn't have a plan. I could feel Wesley watching us from the center of the room, still tied up. Suddenly all I could see in my head was the photo on his permit, blue eyes and awkward smile.

He was just a kid. He was a kid doing what he felt was right. Just like me when I'd first started hunting. Who was I to pass judgment on him?

I gasped out air. "I can't," I declared. I quickly lowered my voice, surprised at myself. "I can't do it. I can't kill him."

The boys all studied my face, and I noted how they looked like they agreed. Slowly, each let their feelings take over, until they each nodded in agreement.

"Ok," said Dean. He didn't sound all that disappointed. He moved away from us, stalking back across the room to where Wesley was watching us.

"Here's the deal," he said. "We're gonna let you go. But if you kill anyone, even one person, we're gonna be back. You got it?"

Wesley nodded, and despite the cool outer shell he mostly managed to maintain, I could see a flash of relief behind his eyes. "Understood," he snapped.

Dean nodded and flicked out his pocket knife, slitting the cords around Wesley's wrists and ankles. Then, before Wesley could stand, Cas flew us out of the factory.

We quickly gathered up our things in the apartment we'd held the stakeout in, then drove back to the motel. We were all silent as we drove, and I could feel the turmoil in the car.

This time Dean didn't object to Cas and I sharing a room, and we took turns showering before collapsing on my bed together.

"Are you ok?" whispered Cas.

I bit my lip, unsure. "Yeah," I said at last.

"Lucy."

I sighed. "I just- did we make the right call, Cas? Are we gonna regret this?"

Cas sighed and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "I don't know," he admitted. "We can't know what he's going to do in the future. But I think it's a good thing we gave him a chance."

I nodded. Cas was right. But that didn't mean I was sure about what we'd done. There was a part of me that was tempted to return to the factory, even though Wesley was long gone by now, and try to kill him. It would be easier. The safer thing to do.

The realization shocked me. When had I become so cold, so calculating?

"Sometimes I think I'm losing sight of the line," I told Cas softly.

I knew Cas was frowning. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"The line. The point of no return. Sometimes I think I forget how far is too far. What if I'm getting too willing to kill?" I shifted position but didn't look at Cas directly, afraid to meet his eyes. "What if I'm changing, becoming-"

"Becoming what?" There was a small laugh on Cas's voice as he pulled my chin up so that I was looking at him. "Becoming evil? Lucy, I don't think that's possible."

I frowned. "You don't know that. You can't."

Cas smiled softly and kissed my nose. "I do," he promised. "You forget Lucy, I've seen your soul. And despite your hatred of the sappiness of this statement, you have a beautiful soul."

"Yeah, but how long has it been since you've seen my soul?" I asked. "I don't get hurt that often."

Cas shot me a disbelieving look. "You're kidding me, right?"

I giggled despite myself, kissing Cas on the cheek. Then I sighed, dropping back down to sprawl across his chest.

"Just promise me you won't let me become something I don't want to be. If I start to get too dark, you have to stop me. No matter what."

"It's not going to come to that," Cas said. He sounded deeply disturbed at just the possibility.

"Just promise me."

Cas sighed. "Fine. I promise. If you ever become evil, which will _never_ happen, I will find a way to stop you."

"Even if it means killing me."

Cas said nothing, but I could feel him tense beneath me.

"Cas."

"I can't promise that, Lucy."

I propped myself onto my elbows. "You have to."

Cas shook his head, deep blue eyes wide. "No. I won't. Lucy." He cupped my face in his hands. "It will never come to that. You would never become something that needed killing. Love, you had the power of god running through your veins, you could have done anything, and yet you saved an innocent soul from hell and locked away the demons. Even when you were filled with the minds of thousands of angels, each without any regard for love or joy or sorrow, you managed to retain your humanity. Your kindness. There is no way you could ever become so dark, so different from that."

I bit my lip. "But what if I could?"

Cas sighed and drew me against his chest, tucking my head under his chin. "I won't let that happen," he promised. "And neither will you."

I sighed. He wasn't going to promise what I wanted. I knew it. Maybe I could get Sam or Dean to promise.

Yeah, that wasn't likely to happen either. They were all too pig headed.

I pushed that out of my head. Cas had promised that he'd do his best to keep me from turning evil. That, I supposed, was all I could ask for at that point. Hopefully it wouldn't come to needing anything more.

"Ok," I whispered. "Thank you."

Cas squeezed his arms around me in a hug. "Goodnight Lucy."

"Goodnight."

Cas turned off the light to the motel room, plunging us into darkness. Neither of us slept though, wrapped up in our own stormy thoughts of the future.


	6. Chapter 6

"Look at them," I chuckled. "It's chaos."

In front of me both Sam and Dean nodded in agreement.

"I don't know what's worse," said Dean. "What's going on over there or the roads. Don't any of these kids know how to drive?"

His question was answered as a tan Sudan veered by the impala, inches away from taking off our side mirror. Dean cursed and yelled some unkind words to the driver, who had by now sped off into the parking lot we had pulled over near.

"Can we maybe find a place to park," suggested Sam. "Somewhere where we won't be run down if we decide to get out of the car."

Dean sighed and navigated the impala into the parking lot. Five minutes and several races later, we finally managed to beat the other contestants to one of the few spaces left.

"Wow," I said as I climbed out of the car. "Is it like this every year?"

Dean and I both looked to Sam, who nodded.

"Yep."

"So why did we have to come today?" asked Dean.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Come on," he said. "Office of admissions is this way."

He started up through the parking lot and Dean and I followed. As we walked I surveyed the scene before us.

It was moving in day at college. We were at a little campus in New Jersey, perched on a pretty little hillside on the outskirts of the forest. Ringing around the campus was an entourage of trees, and several more dotted the uphill climb to the office of admissions. I would have thought the place pretty if it wasn't for the fact that it was _Jersey_. I suppose I was still a New Yorker in my gut, because I felt like I was committing some sort of sin just by admiring the campus. New Yorkers don't admire Jersey. We shun it.

I pushed my inner condemnations away, focusing on not getting trampled by the hordes of college students bustling all over the place. They were busy bringing furniture and books up to their dorm rooms- though a lot of them didn't even seem sure where their dorms were. Parents were hugging their kids, who were itching to run off to find their friends. At least the upperclassmen were. The freshmen were crying about as much as their parents.

We made our way to the office of admissions, and I hung back while Sam and Dean approached the front clerk. She was an aging woman in a flowered blouse who looked like she was already dying to flee work. As Sam and Dean sauntered up to her, both dressed in suits and baring their fake badges, she did her best to suppress a scowl. She couldn't quite manage.

"Hello," said Dean. "I'm detective Blake; this is my partner detective Simmons. We were hoping to ask you some questions about a former student here; Alexandria Whittaker."

Surprise flickered across the secretary's face. "What do you want to know about her for?" she asked. "That girl's been dead for months. The police closed her case."

"We'd like to reopen it," said Sam.

The secretary nodded, and something flashed through her eyes. "What's gotten the FBI interested?" Her gaze swept to where the boys had just reattached their badges to their belts, then back up to their faces.

I left Sam and Dean to work out an explanation, slipping down the hall. Luckily the secretary paid me no attention, probably thinking I was hunting for a bathroom or something. Or maybe she'd just had her fill of stupid college kids for the day.

Soon I was in a storage room. Filing cabinets lined the walls, and I rolled my shoulders and set about searching them for Alexandria Whittaker's file.

Alex, as she'd liked to be called, had grown up locally, living with her parents just inside town. She had been majoring in social welfare, wanting to help women and children coming from abusive homes. She had also been a prominent member of the debate club, several of the college's humanitarian groups, and the rock climbing team. She had been liked by everyone, and as far as the boys and I had managed to dig up so far, there hadn't been any tragedies in her life.

Which was why it had been so odd when Alex had been found dead in her car toward the end of her junior year, a bottle of stolen medicine clutched in her hand. This had been last year. Since then the police had ruled her death a suicide and allowed her family to bury her.

Normally, the boys and I wouldn't have even heard of her, but two days ago the local cemetery's caretaker had gone to mow the grass and found Alex's plot dug up, her casket empty.

It took me a few minutes to find her file. I was lucky it was even there; the college seemed to be behind in updating its catalogs. I suspected another few days and Alex's file would have been going through the shredder. As I finally located the proper folder amid the thousands of others, I let out a small smile of triumph. The digital stuff was great, but it took a few minutes for even Sam to hack, and it didn't contain everything. The more detailed reports were kept in paper. It seemed technology hadn't completely booted the pen out of power yet.

I skimmed through the files, but didn't find anything that stood out. Knowing I could be caught at any moment I slipped out of the room and back down the hallway. I passed a woman brandishing a fresh batch of files, likely containing information on the incoming freshmen, and did my best to not look guilty. Either I managed to look natural enough or the woman was just plain unobservant because I made it back to where Sam and Dean were still talking with the secretary without incident.

"Is there any chance we could see Miss Whittaker's records?" asked Sam.

"Do you have a warrant?" asked the secretary.

"Uhh," Dean floundered for a minute. "No. We were hoping that-"

"That what? I could make an exception?" The secretary scowled and picked up a pen and one of the many papers clotting her desk. "I don't think so. You'll have to go through the appropriate channels."

Dean started to object, but Sam placed a hand on his arm. There was nothing they could do short of getting an actual warrant, and since they weren't actually FBI that wasn't likely to happen.

"Thank you for your help Mrs. Uh-" Sam floundered as he seemed to realize he didn't have the secretary's name.

She rolled her eyes. "Miss Carter," she supplied coolly.

"Right. Thank you Miss Carter. Have a nice day." Sam promptly backed away from the desk, tugging on Dean's sleeve to bring his brother with him. With a chuckle I followed, making sure to keep the file I held out of Miss Carter's sight.

"Well that was a waste of time," muttered Dean.

I smirked. "Not quite. I got the file."

Dean's mouth fell open. "You- what?"

I snickered and handed over the folder. "I snuck into the back while you were distracting the secretary. What did you think I was doing?"

Dean opened and closed his mouth several times, but didn't respond. Sam and I laughed as we trailed our way back down the hill to the car.

* * *

We had barely been at the motel for ten minutes when Cas arrived, slipping in the door to the room Sam and Dean were sharing. Climbing onto the bed I had already settled on and bestowing me with a kiss, he finally glanced over to Sam and Dean.

"I went to the police station," he told them. "Like you told me to. They didn't have much information for us."

Dean shrugged. "I doubted they would," he said. "But it was worth a shot. What _did_ they know?"

Cas sighed. "Alexandria Whittaker was found in her car at around three o'clock in the morning on the twenty fifth of May. Paramedics pronounced her dead at the scene, and an autopsy revealed it was due to a drug overdose. Her death was declared a suicide and the case was closed."

"Great." I rolled my head in a circle. "That's about all we've got."

"Something tells me it wasn't a suicide," said Sam. "If she's come back as a ghost, it's probably because her death was violent."

"So someone murdered her," elaborated Cas.

"But who?" asked Dean. "And why's she only coming back now? Why hasn't she been Caspering around all summer?"

The four of us traded looks, but none of us could come up with a plausible answer.

"And why are her bones missing then?" asked Cas. "If she's come back as a ghost, her bones should still be buried."

We all nodded in agreement.

"Which means someone dug her up," said Sam.

"But who?" I frowned. "Who digs up a dead girl three months after she's gone in the ground?"

"The same person who murdered her?" guessed Sam.

Dean frowned. "Are we sure we're working our usual gig here?" he asked. "Are we sure this is anything supernatural?"

"Does it matter?" I asked. "Even if it's not, whoever killed her got away with it. We've got a chance to bring them to justice."

"Which doesn't make sense," added Cas. "Assuming the person who unburied her is the same person who killed her, why would they unbury her? The case was closed; no one even knew she was murdered. The disappearance of her body will only open up questions; it could lead the police to discover the truth. Why would the killer risk his or her secret like that?"

Again, none of us had an answer.

* * *

We spent the rest of the day digging through Alexandria Whittaker's personal life, which mainly meant going through her social media pages. We ended up relocating to the local public library so that we had enough computers for all of us, working silently until the library closed. Once we were back at the motel we made plans to return the next day, then retired to our own rooms.

Cas and I curled up together, talking quietly. Eventually we faded into silence, and I simply rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady thump-thump of his heart.

"What's wrong?" asked Cas several minutes later.

"Hmm?" I moved my head enough to look up at him, and found his sapphire eyes inches away from my brown eyes. His eyes were dark with worry, his mouth tilted ever so slightly downward in a frown.

"Something's troubling you," he murmured. "What is it?"

I frowned, only just realizing that there was something bugging me. I hadn't even realized it before, but Cas's inquisition brought my attention to the dark feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. I shifted position, mulling over myself. _What was troubling me?_

"Are you worried about something?" asked Cas.

I shook my head slowly. "No, that's not it."

"Upset?"

"I- possibly. That feels closer."

Cas nodded against the top of my head. I could feel the puzzlement radiating off of him.

"Is it your family?" he guessed at last. "Are you missing them?"

"Yes." I sighed; I would always miss my family. And while that did feel right up there with what was bothering me, I felt like there was something more this time. The question was, what?

I let my mind wander to upstate New York, wondering what the parallel version of me was doing right now. Probably pouring over homework or doing the dishes. Tossing jokes and stories around with my- her family.

That was when I realized. She wasn't doing any of that. She was in college.

"Of course," I breathed. "That's it."

"What?" Cas tapped my shoulder to get my attention, and I shifted so that I could see him while still lying comfortably.

"I should have started college this year," I told him. I let out a short laugh at the thought; somehow I just couldn't picture myself attending college. I wondered if it was because I couldn't picture myself in any school besides my old high school or because I could no longer see myself doing anything with my life other than hunting. In the end I decided it no longer mattered.

But that didn't make the aching feeling in my chest go away. In fact, now that I knew what had been bothering me the feeling only got worse, spreading throughout my torso.

Cas smoothed back my hair. "I'm sorry," he offered. "I forget sometimes how hard this must be for you. Everything you've sacrificed…"

"Please." I brushed aside his concern. "I knew what I was getting into from the first moment I saw you. I made my choice. You don't have anything to feel sorry for."

Cas nodded, but I could tell he didn't believe me.

"I wonder what college I chose," I mused. I sat up, biting my lip as I thought. "Do you think I stayed in New York?"

Cas shrugged, sitting up as well. "I don't think you chose Jersey," he quipped.

I scowled. Even the word Jersey set my teeth on edge.

I found my curiosity insatiable. I was dying to know what I had done with my life, what a normal life for me would have looked like. As though he realized this Cas vanished, and when he reappeared again he was holding Sam's computer.

It didn't take long to find my parallel self online. I had been keeping tabs on her over the past year and a half, just to make sure no monsters tracked my activities back to her. She had as of yet remained unaffected by my life, something I was eternally grateful for.

Luckily, it seemed all my social media passwords were the same in this universe as they had been in mine. I quickly started combing through her websites, until I found a very excited announcement of acceptance into Syracuse University's business program.

There were pictures online of my dorm room too. They had been put up by my dad, the parallel version of him that is. It was a typical college dorm room; two beds, desks, and wardrobes. Her half of the room was decorated with pictures of family and friends, movie and TV show posters, and a few funny quotes that I guessed she had found online. The covers on the bed were a deep purple in color, dotted with bulging ruby red flowers. The parallel version of myself was already sitting on the center of the bed, a book in her hands and a broad grin on her face as she proudly modeled her new dorm room for the camera.

I had to ex out of the webpage as my eyes started to tear, and Cas rubbed my back soothingly. We both knew that while I had started to add several personal touches to my room back at the bunker it was still sparsely decorated in comparison to the dorm room inhabited by the parallel version of me. There were a few pictures of Sam, Dean, Cas, and I, as well as some posters Sam had bought me for Christmas the previous year. Dean had bought me a soft, light blue, fuzzy blanket for my bed, but other than that my room was bare.

"Are you alright?" asked Cas.

I nodded, brushing roughly at my eyes. "Yeah."

Cas apparently didn't believe me, because he wrapped his arms around me and tugged me into his lap. I cuddled against him, letting his warm embrace rescue me from all the regrets that, despite my love for my new family, would always still be in the back of my mind.

* * *

 **I am so so so sorry that it's taken so long to update. School started up again (ugh) and I've been swamped with work. Not to mention I've been facing writer's block.**

 **Once more I am so sorry that I haven't posted anything in so long. Thank you so much for sticking with me.**


	7. Chapter 7

The next day we returned to the library. While Sam and Dean dug through Alexandria Whittaker's social life I began to go through her school records, and Cas began investigating any associates of hers that we pointed in his direction. The first part of the morning he spent looking up her parents, both of whom still lived locally. Then he began looking up our next person of interest; Rebekkah Hurst.

From what the boys found on Alex's multitude of social media pages, she and Rebekkah had been in a serious relationship. Seemingly half of Alex's posts in the two years before she had died contained photos of her and Rebekkah, or updates on their relationship status.

Cas started uploading Rebekkah's social media pages, and I paused in my own perusing to glance over his shoulder at the results. Rebekkah was an olive skinned girl with black hair and striking green eyes. In the picture I was viewing, her arm was wrapped around Alex's slightly larger form, and her girlfriend's pale skin and blonde hair contrasted with Rebekkah's own appearance. Their eyes, however, were the same vivid shade of green.

"I've got nothing here," I commented. I sighed at my files on Alex, both digital and physical. "She got good grades, was involved in school activities, and didn't have any problems with behavior. At least none that are recorded."

"What does that mean?" asked Cas.

I shrugged. "She might have done something and they let her slide on it if it was minor enough. Or she just might not have been caught."

"Either is possible," sighed Sam.

"Why don't you look into Rebekkah's school records," suggested Dean. "Cas, keep searching her social life."

I nodded and began typing. A moment later I sat back with a frown.

"That's going to be a problem," I commented.

Sam, Dean, and Cas frowned and turned to me.

"Why?" asked Sam.

"Her record isn't in the system. She must have transferred to a different college after what happened with Alex. I've got no idea where she is now."

I grimaced. This was a really inconvenient time for the college to update their records. Couldn't they have waited until after we'd finished snooping around illegally?

"And her social media pages are vastly neglected," added Cas. "She's barely been online since Alexandria's death."

"Check out her family," Dean ordered. "Maybe one of them put something about her online."

I did that while Cas continued to root through Rebekkah's abandoned social media accounts. It ended up taking me several minutes, but on her younger sister's page I found a post about Rebekkah's acceptance into a college on the other side of the state.

"She's up north," I noted. "I take it we're going to see her?"

"Yeah." Dean stood and stretched. "Sam and I will drive there. You two keep digging up things around here. Talk to people Alex knew, who knew her and Rebekkah. See if anything was off with them before Alex died. Keep going through social media too. See if you can find any friends that weren't so nice."

I nodded. "I know the drill," I assured him. "We'll stay busy."

Dean nodded, and a moment later he and Sam had disappeared up one of the long rows of books.

I turned to Cas. "You keep looking here; I'll go back to the school, see if I can get anyone to talk."

Cas frowned. "How? You won't pass as FBI."

I shrugged, a smile toying at the corner of my mouth. "I'll find a way."

* * *

I found my targets clustered on the lawn outside one of the dorm buildings. A group of girls, all looking like they had been at the college for at least a year. They were sipping iced coffees from the Starbucks down the street and ogling the boys walking by, giggling and whispering to each other.

I paused not far off, gauging how I wanted to go about things. I had never been that popular in school; I'd been more concerned with getting good grades than I had been with being homecoming queen. These girls were clearly the opposite. They were the type who had made my childhood and the childhoods of countless other nerds hell.

Ignoring the disdain that rose in me, I put my mind to how I could approach them. With as little social skills as I had, I knew they would pick up on something being off straight away.

 **Hey Mia**.I chuckled to myself as I sent the text, imagining my friend's confusion upon reading it. **I need some advice. How do I pretend to be one of the popular snooty girls that everyone secretly wants to punch so that I can get information out of them?**

I hit send and peered out from behind the tree I was standing behind, hoping Mia would respond quickly. Luck seemed to be with me, because it wasn't long before I got a response.

 **U no I'm one of those girls right?**

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Somehow I doubted Mia was bad enough that people wanted to punch her. But hey, at least she was honest.

 **Plz?** I sent back.

 **U owe me an explanation** ,was Mia's response. **First u need to be doing the same thing as them maybe dress a bit more like them that sort of stuff**.

It took me a moment to decipher the text talk we had slipped into using as we'd grown closer. Then I frowned and glanced down at my worn out clothes. **So no plaid?** I guessed.

 **Lol not how u wear it**.

I sniffed but obliged, unbuttoning the bottom half of my shirt. Then I bunched it into two tails on either side of my body and tied them together over my stomach. I considered rolling up my tank top to expose my stomach as I knew most girls would do, but decided I didn't need to go that far. At least I hoped not.

Then I started down the street toward the Starbucks, typing my next text as I did.

 **Now wat?**

 **Talk to them**. Mia was probably shaking her head on her end, laughing.

I scowled. **I'm not good at that.**

 **Talk about whatever they're talking about then change the subject to whatever ur trying to get info on. What is that btw?**

 **Wat just start talking? I can't just step into their conversation like tht**.

 **Yes u can now wats the case about?**

 **Spoilers. Thanx gtg**. I smiled as I stuffed my phone back into my pocket, mulling over Mia's advice.

By the time I'd gotten my iced vanilla coffee and walked back up the street, I still wasn't entirely confident in my ability to bullshit social skills. I needed the information for the case though, so with a grimace and a deep breath I sidled up behind the group.

They were busy staring at some kid fastening his bike to the rack outside the building. The girls were trying to stare without making it obvious that they were staring, and the guy was doing his best to show off his muscles as he snaked the bike chain around the tire and locked it in place. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"He's hot," I cooed. I slipped into place beside one of the girls at the edge, swirling my coffee around in my cup. Then I batted my eyes at the guy with the bike, and I could literally see his ego inflate ten sizes.

The girl next to me, a small red head with blue eyes, nodded vigorously. "All the guys we've seen coming out of the building today are." A grin split her face as she thought of the show she'd been getting all morning. "College is gonna be good."

I laughed. "Just don't get knocked up," I warned.

The girl shot me a weirded out look and turned away. I resisted the urge to curse, racking my brain for a way to undo my damage.

"My brother goes to here too," I said. "He's an upperclassman; on the football team. They're having a party in a few days and he thinks he can get me invited."

That did the trick. Suddenly every girl was staring at me with bright eyes, thinking they'd found their ticket into a house full of hot, drunk guys.

"Who's your brother?" asked one of them. She was clearly the queen of the group, which was why I had avoided her when I'd first joined. Now she was fixing me with big brown eyes that poked out from under wavy black hair.

I shrugged and waved dismissively. "One of the few guys on the team who hasn't gotten over the awkward teenage pimple stage. But he's in with the right crowd, so that's nice for me."

The girls nodded in almost perfect unison.

"What's your name?" asked the queen of the group.

I smiled. "Piper. What about you guys?"

Queenie gestured to herself. "I'm Syd; this is Paige, Theresa, and Maja." She pointed to each of her friends in turn. Paige was the redhead I'd been talking to. Theresa was a tall blonde who looked athletic enough to give me a run for my money, and Maja was a tiny little thing with pin straight hair cut in a pretty bob.

I gave a small wave. "Hey." I took a deep breath, then jumped to why I was really there. "I just got here, so I'm still a bit unfamiliar with campus, but I heard someone killed herself last year. Do you guys know anything about that?"

My heart pounded as I asked the question. This was where the importance of who I had picked to get the information was important. I was sure some people wouldn't want to talk about it, though disturbingly few, most likely. These girls lived and breathed gossip. I was counting on it to get me what I needed.

They didn't disappoint. Syd glanced around, as if to check that no one was listening, then began to talk.

"You mean Alex Whittaker?" she asked.

When I nodded Syd continued.

"They found her in the back of her car. Apparently she OD'd."

I frowned. "Apparently? You don't think that's true? Was she involved in that sort of stuff a lot?"

Syd shook her head. "No. She was one of those annoyingly perfect people. At least everyone thought. I heard she was having trouble with someone."

"Who?" I did my best not to seem overly excited about the information. "Do you know?"

If the girls thought my interest odd they didn't comment.

"No one knows. But a few people caught her arguing on the phone with someone."

"Her girlfriend?" I asked. "Rebekkah? Is there a chance Rebekkah did something to her?"

"Oh, no." Theresa began shaking her head back and forth. "I don't know who she was fighting with, but it wasn't Rebekkah. Those two were totally in love. I think half the campus heard Rebekkah scream when she found her."

I blanched. "What're you talking about?"

Maja's eyes widened. "Don't you know? Rebekkah was the one who found her. They were supposed to meet up in the library to study, but Alex never showed. Rebekkah waited, then went to Alex's house, cos Alex lived off campus. She wasn't there, so Rebekkah came back to campus and I guess she decided to check if Alex's car was in the lot and well, she found Alex."

"Oh my god." My hand flew up to cover my mouth, and I nearly dropped my coffee. Poor Rebekkah. No wonder she'd transferred schools. I couldn't imagine finding someone I loved like that.

Memories of nightmares I'd had in the past about my family threatened in my mind, but I pushed them back. This wasn't the time.

Theresa nodded. "Rebekkah went off the grid after that. She barely passed her finals, and then she disappeared. I heard she got sent to a mental hospital."

"No." Paige shook her head. "She just transferred schools. I'm telling you. She wasn't that bad."

The group seemed to have mixed reactions and started debating. I decided it was time to make my exit, and began to detach myself from the conversation. I was just edging away when Syd called me back, her phone in her hand.

"What's your number?" she asked. "Let's keep in touch."

I nodded, pasting a false smile on my face. "Yeah, totally. 382-5968."

"Great." Syd shot me a bright smile. "See yah around."

I waved and all but ran for it. Around the corner of the dorm building I whipped out my phone and called Sam.

"Hey," I said. "You haven't gotten to Rebekkah yet, have you?"

Sam snorted. "No. It's gonna be another hour or so before we get there. Why? You find anything."

"Yeah." I quickly untied my shirt and refastened the buttons. "Apparently Alex was having problems with someone, but no one knows who. See if she told Rebekkah anything."

"Got it." There was a pause at the other end of the line. "How did you find that out?"

I groaned. "Don't ask. Let me know what you find out; I'm gonna see if I can get any more information on my end."

* * *

My next stop was Alex's house. Alex had been a single child and both her parents worked, and since it was the middle of the day on a Tuesday, no one was home. I let myself into the house, then made my way to Alex's old room.

The walls were painted a pretty shade of blue, with photos of family and friends hung up. I started rifling through her drawers, under her mattress and bed, searching every typical hiding place. There was nothing. No notes or diaries, no clue that pointed to the identity of the person she'd been having trouble with. With a sigh I left the house and met Cas back at the library.

"I really wish Dean didn't insist on driving everywhere," I commented. "Now we're stuck waiting on them to reach Rebekkah."

Cas frowned as I plopped into a chair next to him. "You didn't find out anything?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Oh, I found out something." I relayed to him what I had discovered, and when Cas heard of how Rebekkah had found Alex he looked horrified.

"That must have been awful," he choked out. "To find someone you love like that…"

I nodded sadly. My eyes drifted over to Cas, and as though we were suddenly thinking the same awful thoughts, we both lurched forward and wrapped each other in a hug.

"I'm not going anywhere," I promised. "You're stuck with me for a while yet, Angel Dust."

Cas only squeezed me tighter against him. "And I will never leave you," he promised. "I love you, Lucy."

I smiled against his shoulder. "I love you too, Cas."

* * *

 **Hey guys! I want to take a moment to say thank you so much for all the wonderful comments I've been getting. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read my work, despite my long lapses between posts.**

 **That being said, I now have a puzzle for you. The number Lucy gave the four girls, there are two meanings behind it. One will be revealed later in the story, but the other I'll leave for you to figure out. (The second message is really more Lucy's message to the girls and not meant toward any of you; I just thought it was funny.)**

 **By the way, please don't try to call the number. I have no idea if it actually is someone's number, and if it is I doubt they'll appreciate getting calls because of a fanfic.**

 **Happy solving!**


	8. Chapter 8

By the time Sam and Dean got back Cas and I had left the library for the night and retired to our motel room. We were curled up in one of the beds, talking quietly, when the boys slipped into the room. For some odd (though certainly not unwelcome) reason, neither of them ushered Cas and I to move away from each other.

They sat wearily at the table, and Cas popped back to their room to grab them beers. Both brothers offered him smiles of appreciation as Cas settled back onto the bed beside me. By now I was sitting up, and Cas reached over to take my hand.

"You could have warned us, you know," said Dean.

I sighed. "I'm sorry; you're right."

"Did you find out anything?" asked Cas.

Dean took a moment to glare at Cas, and my eyebrows drew together in confusion. Yeah, I probably should have warned them that Rebekkah had found Alex, but they'd dealt with harder stuff. So what was the problem?

I glanced over to Sam and saw that he seemed more withdrawn than usual. As though feeling my eyes on him he glanced up, and I could see the raw emotions swirling in his eyes.

"Yeah," he told us. "We found out something. We found out that when Rebekkah found Alex she had a ring in her pocket. Rebekkah was going to propose."

With that he stood and stalked out of the room, letting the door bang shut behind him. For a moment we all simply sat in shock, and then I was on my feet and following.

"Don't." Dean's voice was harsher than normal, and when he next spoke I could tell he was making an effort to curtail it. "Let him go."

I ignored him, stalking from the room. Sam was leaning against the outer wall of the motel several feet away, panting heavily. As I put my hand on his shoulder he tensed and yanked away, then relaxed when he saw it was me.

"You ok?" I asked.

When Sam said nothing I sighed. That was a pretty self-answering question.

"You wanna talk?"

Sam took a minute before responding. "It's just- it reminded me of Jess."

"Jess?" I frowned. "I thought you said…"

Sam nodded. "And I was telling the truth. I moved on from her death. I guess this just reminded me of how I used to love her. Maybe it bothers me that I don't anymore. I don't know. Maybe I'm just realizing how messed up my life is."

I snorted. "If you're only just realizing that then I think you've got bigger problems."

Sam laughed shortly, then sobered up again. "I shouldn't have stalked out like that," he said. "I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "It's fine. Are you good to work this case Sam?"

Sam nodded. "I'll be good. I just need another minute."

I surveyed him quietly for a moment, then nodded. "Ok." I squeezed Sam's hand and left him, slipping back inside.

I found Cas and Dean sitting tersely, looking like they had just finished a fight. I sighed as I returned to where I had been sitting. Why did I have to be the only person who could control their emotions?

 _Men._

I was about to demand someone tell me what was going on when Dean glanced over. His green eyes had softened considerably, and he offered me a small smile.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," he said. "It's just, seeing Sammy like that-"

"It's fine, Dean." I waved my hand. "I get it. I'd have done the same. I'm sorry I didn't warn you guys. I didn't think that would happen."

Dean nodded, looking relieved. Beside me Cas seemed happy that Dean had apologized.

When Sam came back a minute later we resumed the case, carefully avoiding any mention of Rebekkah.

"Did you guys find out who Alex had been arguing with?"

Dean shook his head. "Nope. Apparently whatever was going on, Alex was keeping it to herself."

I stood and started pacing. "Ok, so I've been assuming that this is a regular murder. What if it's not? What if it's really something in our domain?"

"Then we get to kill it," Dean said. Beside him Sam shook his head in mock sadness. Despite the rolling of his eyes, I could tell he still wasn't top-notch ok.

"But what kills someone by means of a drug overdose?" asked Cas.

"Maybe they didn't want blood or organs or anything from her," I said. "Maybe she found out that someone was a monster and they killed her to keep her from telling."

"But still, why the OD?" Sam ruffled his hair. "When monsters kill, they don't worry about subtlety. If it is a monster, it would have just ripped out her throat or something."

"Maybe this one has a brain," suggested Dean.

I growled in frustration. "What exactly do we have? Do we know anything?"

"Nothing we can make sense of," said Dean.

Sam pulled out his phone. "We need help," he declared. "From someone who actually knows how to investigate these things."

I raised my eyebrows, but he was already dialing. Just when I thought we were about to go to voicemail the person on the other end of the phone picked up.

"Sam, what is- hold on one minute. Annie Jones, you get your ass back in here now!" There was the sound of furious stomping, followed by the revving of a motorcycle engine. As the sound of said motorcycle departing and its two riders- a boy and girl- laughing maniacally filled the phone Jodi Mills's cursing joined it.

"Uh, Jodi?" Dean took the phone from Sam. "Is this a good time?"

Jodi sighed. "I've got a teenage daughter, Dean. It's never a good time. What do you need?"

Before the boys could say anything else I jumped in. "Hey Jodi," I called.

"Lucy? Is that you? How're you doing?"

I smiled at the happiness in Jodi's voice. "Not too bad. You?"

Jodi made a random noise. "Same old. What trouble are you guys getting into now?"

"We got a case we need help with," I said. "The thing is, we're not sure what exactly is going on here. We're not even sure it's supernatural."

"Then why are you working it?"

"We came in thinking it was," Cas defended. "Now we're not sure. A girl is dead; the police failed to find her killer."

Jodi sighed. "Alright, fill me in."

We did so quickly, and Sam fidgeted slightly when Rebekkah came up. When we finished we waited a couple of minutes for Jodi to collect her thoughts.

"Ok," she said at last. "First thing you want to do is go through her phone records. I take it you lot aren't bothering with a warrant?"

"Nope," said Sam.

"Didn't think so. So go through her phone records, look for any numbers Alex called with a sudden frequency. Cross check them. If it's her dad's phone she kept calling and she called him every Sunday since starting college, move on. Look for something that popped up not too long before her death. The more frequent the calls the better."

"Got it." Sam pulled his laptop out of his bag and started to log on. "What else?"

"Keep digging around. Maybe she told someone who she was fighting with."

"When she didn't tell Rebekkah?" asked Dean.

"You never know," said Jodi.

"Do you have any idea why her killer would move her body from her grave?" asked Cas.

"That's more up your alley if it is something supernatural," Jodi admitted. "Though if we're going with the idea of there being no monsters involved here, there wouldn't be much reason for him or her to take her body. You're dealing with a really messed up person here." There was a pause. "You guys want backup on this?"

"Nah, we'll be good." Dean took a sip of his beer. "Thanks Jodi. We owe you one."

"Uh-huh. I've heard that one before. Stay safe you guys. Come visit sometime, ok?"

"Got it. See yah."

Sam sighed as he hung up the phone, and the four of us traded looks.

"Like I said," I growled. "We got nothing."

Each of the men with me looked like they wanted to object, but clearly I was right, because none of them could come up with anything to say.

My pouting was interrupted by the blare of sirens outside. I turned to the window, watching the flashing strobes race past the motel, red and blue painting the walls temporarily.

"What do you think it is?" asked Cas.

"It's headed in the direction of the college," pointed out Sam. "Do you think…"

Dean shrugged. "Cas, pop to the college, would you? See if anything's wrong."

Cas vanished, and we waited in worried silence for two minutes. When Cas returned he had a grave look on his face.

"It's the college," he confirmed. "Someone has died."

I cursed and grabbed my jacket. Sam and Dean were already at the door, and I followed them to the impala.

* * *

The ambulance was sitting outside one of the dorms, still screeching and flashing. All the people trying to sleep must've loved it. Quite a few students had given up on the task and had meandered outside, grouping together at the edge of the police tape that had been set up. Already a body was being wheeled out on a stretcher, a black body bag covering the figure. Still, I could see something dark dripping off of the moving gurney, leaving a trail on the cement.

I shivered as a feeling of being watched hit me. Ignoring it, I stood on my toes to get a better look at the body being loaded onto the ambulance.

"Can you get in and find out what happened?" I asked Sam and Dean.

"Not without our fake badges," Sam said. "Or our tuxes. We don't have either right now."

I nodded and slipped into the crowd, getting as close to the scene as the police tape would let me. There I tapped a student on the shoulder, drawing his attention away from the spectacle.

"What happened?" I asked. "Who was that?"

The kid shook his head. "Derek Nelson. His roommate found him hacked up in his room."

I crinkled my nose. "That's awful. Wait, Derek Nelson?"

The guy next to me slanted me a look. "Yeah, why? Did you know him?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

I quickly backed away, returning to where the boys were waiting expectantly.

"The victim's name is Derek Nelson," I said. "His roommate found him dead in his room."

"Derek Nelson?" asked Dean. "Where've I heard that name before?"

"It was one of the names on Alexandria's facebook page," Cas said. "He was her friend."

I gulped. "That can't be a coincidence."

"Do you think it was one of these guys?" asked Sam. He peered over the crowd, and I stood on my toes so I could do the same.

"There." I pointed to the other side of the ambulance Derek Nelson's body was being loaded into. "Correct me if I'm wrong, cos I've never been to college, but doesn't the faculty get to go home at night?"

"Yeah," said Sam. "They do."

Each boy followed my gaze to where I was pointing. As if feeling our gazes, the secretary Sam and Dean had spoken to the day before glanced over, meeting our eyes. Then, abruptly, she turned and walked away.

We followed. We had to shove our way through the crowd, and by the time we emerged the secretary was gone.

"Shit." Dean scanned around us. "Where'd she go?"

"Her office," recommended Cas. He grabbed our hands, and a moment later we arrived.

I heard the creak of the door opening, and then a light blinked on. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, but when they did I saw the secretary trying to flee, her way blocked by Cas, who had materialized between her and the still ajar door.

"Nice try," said Sam. "You going somewhere?"

"You're not FBI," she accused.

Dean snorted. "Yes, thank you. We hadn't noticed."

I eyed the secretary. Her brown hair, cut short and greying, was ruffled in disarray. The lines on her face were more pronounced, and stress colored her eyes dark shades of brown.

"Who are you?" she asked. "Are you even here to investigate Alex's death?"

"We are," promised Cas. "Were you the one who killed her?"

The secretary's eyes bugged out of her head. "What? No! Derek Nelson did, that bastard!"

"So you killed him." I stepped forward, watching the secretary closely as I did. "You hacked him up in his dorm room."

The secretary's face paled slightly, but she lifted her chin. "Alex was my niece," she told us. "And that rat Derek Nelson killed her. So yeah, I killed him."

"What?" I blinked rapidly. "Sorry, what now?"

Miss Carter sneered at me. "She was my niece." She said each word slowly, overemphasizing them.

For a minute we all stood in silence, unsure how to react to this change of events. Dean was the first to speak again.

"How do you know he killed her?" he asked. "The police never got anything from the car that even suggested foul play. What makes you so certain?"

"She told me!" Miss Carter's hands were clenched into fists, her face beat red. "Before she died, she told me he was bugging her. Trying to get her to do things with him. Things she wasn't interested in doing."

I felt my own cheeks color in anger at Derek Nelson, but I pushed it down and let Miss Carter continue.

"She told me everything," Alex's aunt confided. "Her parents were judgmental; I never was. Not to her. I was the first person she told about being lesbian. She _trusted_ me." Miss Carter choked off, rocking slightly as she fought back tears.

"Ma'am?" asked Cas.

The woman began to sob. "She trusted me," she cried. "And I'm the one who told her to enroll here. It was close to home, close to me. It was perfect for her. If she hadn't come here then- then-"

Cas wrapped his arms around Miss Carter as her bawling intensified, and Sam, Dean, and I glanced uncertainly back and forth. What were we supposed to do now?

"Does something look off?" whispered Sam. He leaned over to Dean and I, his gaze slanting to Miss Carter. "If she killed Derek, why isn't she covered in blood?"

"She might've changed," suggested Dean.

"No," I said. "Something's not right."

"Aunt Amira?"

We all spun around to see the figure standing in the shadows. Silhouetted by the moonlight coming in the window on the wall behind her, with long hair that shone pale blond under the moon. Something long was clutched in the person's hand; I couldn't make out what it was.

"What've you done to her?" asked the figure angrily. "Get away!"

I cursed quietly as Alex Whittaker stepped further into the room, murder in her eyes. Blood, still wet and red, coated her entire front, staining her white dress crimson. The object in her hand was revealed to be a kitchen knife, blood dripping off its point onto the tiled floor.

Sam, Dean, and I immediately drew weapons, and Cas held Miss Carter back.

"No!" Miss Carter screamed and writhed, fighting to free herself. "Don't hurt her!"

Alex laughed. It was a sweet laugh; I almost softened. A quick glance at the sadistic savagery in her eyes changed that.

"Don't worry Aunt Amira," she soothed. "They can't hurt me. See?"

Alex drew the edge of her knife down her arm, and I winced as her pale skin split open like butter. A moment later it resealed.

"Right," I muttered. "I remember that episode."

"Alex." Sam stepped forward, holding up his hands. "Listen to us. You've got to let go. You don't belong here anymore. It's time for you to rest."

Alex cocked her head. "Why?" she asked. "I feel so alive."

She kicked out and caught Sam in the side; he went flying. I yelped as Alex then leapt forward, at me, and I automatically parried with my own knife. Before she could strike again I shoved her back.

"Can we knock her out?" I asked.

"No!" Dean ducked under Alex's knife, then backed away.

"Alex, stop!" yelled Miss Carter.

Alex laughed maniacally. "No. Why should I? I haven't done anything wrong!"

"You killed someone!" reminded Dean.

Alex's eyes blazed. "He killed me! He wanted to drug me so that he could do things, but he miscalculated the dosage." Alex laughed. "I suppose I should be glad. Better dead than-" she choked off, unable to even say what would have happened to her. I understood anyway.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I can't imagine what that must've been like. But Alex, this isn't right. You're dead. Be dead."

Alex shook her head. "Not gonna happen."

I sighed. "Do you know what will happen to you? You'll become a vengeful spirit, only instead of a soul without a body, you'll be a body without a soul. But you'll still kill people. Innocent people. You don't want that."

Alex scowled. "I won't do that."

"That's what everybody says," informed Dean. "We knew someone who thought the same. When he died he refused to move on. In the end he began to turn into the very thing he hated."

Doubt was shining in Alex's eyes now. A moment later she shook her head.

"I'll be different."

Alex jumped forward again, but didn't make it more than a few feet before jerking to a stop. A bright glow lit up the room, and I squeezed my eyes shut. When I opened them again Cas was standing over Alex's smoking body.

 _Ok,_ I thought. _I guess angel smiting works on all monsters._

"Alex!"

Miss Carter rushed forward, gathering her niece's body in her arms. Her sobbing came renewed, tears leaking onto her niece's face.

"Alex," she murmured softly. "No. Nononono. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

As Miss Carter's crying intensified I felt a chill run up my spine. I glanced out the still open door, and thought I saw someone standing across the street. Frowning, I made my way closer, but by the time I had reached the door the shadowy figure was gone.

* * *

 **Hey guys,**

 **Sorry it's been so long since I've posted. Life has been crazy. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

 **I'm curious; has anyone figured out what the code Lucy left in the phone number was? I promise, the message was strictly for the girls she was talking to. If anyone has any guesses post them and I'll let you know if you're right.**

 **Anyway, Merry Christmas everyone! Or if you don't celebrate Christmas, Happy Hanukkah or Kwanzaa. If you celebrate something I haven't named I'm sorry I didn't mention it, but I hope you enjoyed it as well.**


	9. Chapter 9

We helped Miss Carter to bury Alex's body again, and I steered her away long enough for the boys to nail Alex into her coffin- just in case. Once they had shoveled the dirt back onto the wooden box we allowed Miss Carter to go back to the grave, and while she sobbed we made our escape.

We let the impala idle in the parking lot outside our motel room, each of us silent and brooding.

"We should take a break," Sam suggested.

Beside him Dean nodded.

"Jodi?" I suggested. "She said to come visit."

"I don't think she meant _now_ ," objected Dean.

"We can call her in the morning," Cas said. "Check with her. It will take several days to drive to her anyway."

With that he vanished, presumably to my motel room. I sighed and began to leave the impala.

"Night," I called.

Sam and Dean both grunted replies.

Cas was waiting on my bed, and scooted over as I came in. I curled up next to him, and he pulled me against his chest.

"You ran off kind of fast," I observed.

Cas shrugged.

"You wanna talk?"

For several moments Cas was silent, and I was beginning to wonder if he would ever respond when he finally started talking.

"Their time was cut short," he said. "Alex and Rebekkah's. Do you ever worry that our time will be too?"

I frowned and pushed myself up on my elbow so that I could look Cas in the eyes. They were dark and stormy with worry.

"Is that what you think?" I asked. "That I'm going to get myself killed? Cas, I can handle myself."

He offered me a thin smile. "I know. Still…"

I sighed. "Cas, nothing is going to happen to me. Or to you. We're going to live long and happy lives."

Cas nodded. I wasn't sure if he believed me.

I wasn't sure if I believed me.

* * *

Jodi seemed thrilled by the prospect of us coming for a visit, so by noon we had checked out of the motel and were on the road. It was sunny and warm out, and we let the windows down and cranked up the music. I pulled my hair out of its ponytail and let the wind whip it around my face, laughing the whole time. By the time we stopped for dinner it was a giant poof ball around my head, but I didn't care.

When we finally reached Jodi's place a couple of days later it was around three in the afternoon. It seemed she had the day off from work, because when we pulled in the driveway I saw a curtain twitch at the window, and Jodi was trotting out of the house before Dean had even killed the engine.

"Hey!" Jodi drew us all into hugs, though she had to stand on her toes to reach Sam. "You made good time!"

"Yeah." Sam detached himself from Jodi. "How've you been?"

Jodi shrugged as she led us inside. "Not too bad. You?"

"Same as usual," Dean answered. "So, what was that we were hearing on the phone the other night? It sounded like a motorcycle."

Jodi sighed. "Annie has a boyfriend. And he has a motorcycle. And a lot of bad habits."

Dean snorted. "Look at the bright side. He's not a vamp."

Jodi scowled. "Yes, thank you Dean."

She grabbed a pitcher of lemonade and started for the back of the house. There were a few chairs on the back porch, and we gathered together on them to talk.

"Where is Annie now?" I asked.

"With her boyfriend."

I nodded and resisted the urge to smirk at the look on Jodi's face. Clearly she didn't like her adopted daughter's latest company.

"Speaking of boyfriends," Jodi said. "How're you two doing?" She gestured between me and Cas.

"We're doing well," said Cas. He reached over and took my hand as he spoke, and I leaned into his side.

We talked for a bit longer, then Jodi got up to get started on dinner. She refused to let the boys help, instead bringing me with her.

I raised an eyebrow as she drew me into the kitchen.

"So," she said. "What's bothering you?"

I frowned. "What?"

Jodi rolled her eyes. "You've been skittish the entire time you've been here. You jump at every noise, and you look around every few minutes like you expect something to jump out of the deck box and bite you. What's going on?"

I sighed. Dammit, she was perceptive. She must be really good at the whole mom thing.

"Nothing," I said. "Just the job."

Jodi wasn't buying it. "Try again."

I gritted my teeth. "It's gonna sound crazy," I warned her.

She slanted me a look as she rummaged around in the fridge. "We hunt monsters, Lucy. I don't think there's anything you can tell me that gets crazier than that."

She had a point there. I took a deep breath, weighing around what I wanted to say.

"I feel like someone's watching me," I told her. "Sometimes. I just get a feeling, like there's someone there. Except when I look, there's no one. Until the other night."

"What happened then?"

I frowned. "I got the feeling again. That chill up your spine, hair standing on edge feeling. It's what I get whenever I feel like someone is watching me. And when I turned around, I thought I saw someone there, across the street. But by the time I moved closer to look they were gone. I'm not even sure I didn't imagine it."

Jodi nodded slowly, leaning against the counter.

"First of all," she said. "Never assume you're imagining things. I haven't seen too much of you kid, but I can tell you're a bright one. You've got good instincts. If they're telling you something is off, you trust 'em. Could just save your life."

I nodded, relieved.

"Have you told the boys about this?" Jodi asked.

I shook my head. "Not yet. I don't really know how, and they'd all flip anyway."

"They're more mature than you give them credit for," Jodi objected.

"Sam and Dean were having a food fight this morning," I said. "Trust me, they're not. They'd lock me in the bunker and never let me leave again."

Jodi chuckled. "Maybe, maybe not. But you're family. Family doesn't keep this sort of thing from each other. If there's something going on they should know about it so that they can help."

I nodded. "Thanks, Jodi."

Jodi nodded. "Anytime. Let me know if you ever need help with this."

"Ok." I took a deep breath and decided we needed a topic change. "What are you making?"

Jodi grinned. "Barbecue chicken. Help me carry this stuff out to the grill, will you?"

I grabbed the bottle of barbecue sauce and the grill tools and brought them outside. Jodi carried a plate heaping with chicken. We got to work lighting the grill, which was a rusty old thing that looked older than Cas.

Lighting it took a while, and we used a lot of not so nice words. By the time Annie got home, hair a mess from riding on a motorcycle, we were pulling the last of the chicken off the grill. She didn't look too thrilled by Sam and Dean's presence, and Cas and I seemed to be guilty by association.

Dinner went relatively well- as well as it could go with a teenager who seemed to hate everyone and everything. She headed up to her room soon after, and a minute later I could hear music blaring from behind her closed door.

Sam and Dean found a football and started a game, and somehow they managed to drag Cas, Jodi and I into it.

"Wait," said Cas. "The teams are uneven."

"Hold on," said Jodi. She jogged back into the house, emerging a minute later with a grumpy looking Annie.

"Girls against boys?" Jodi suggested.

"I don't do football," Annie stated.

"Neither do I," I told her. "But we can't let those doofuses win. Come on."

Annie considered for a moment, scowling ever so slightly. She seemed to like my insulting the boys though, because she nodded, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

"One game," she said. "Then I'm out."

"Touch or tackle?" asked Dean.

"Touch!" Jodi widened her eyes in exasperation. "I don't need to spend my Saturday night in the ER."

Sam and Dean pouted slightly, but didn't object. We moved to opposite ends of the yard and the boys kicked the ball to us, starting the game.

I'd never played football outside of gym class, and it had been a long time since then. I'd had no idea how the points worked then, and I still didn't know, but that didn't matter much. Chasing the boys around the yard was fun, especially when Sam tripped over his own feet trying to catch Jodi, who was zig zagging to avoid him as she ran with the ball. He crashed to the ground and got a mouth full of dirt.

Annie may or may not have taken a picture to post online.

"Hey!" I shouted a minute later. "Cas, that's cheating!"

"What?" Cas gave me a deceptively sweet smile from his end zone. "I was supposed to get the ball here. I did."

"By running." I yanked the ball out of his hands. "Not flying."

"Nice try though," said Annie.

We exchanged grins as we lined up again, each of us picking out our targets. When Dean lobbed the ball we both ran, Annie toward Sam and me toward Cas.

He paused in his running to catch the ball soaring at him, and I couldn't quite stop on time. I crashed into him, and with a pair of oomphs we tumbled to the ground.

"Oops." I smiled down at Cas. "My bad."

Cas's blue eyes twinkled. "I don't mind."

I grinned.

"No breaking Cas, Lucy," called Sam. He jogged over and pulled us up, and to my annoyance I saw that Cas had the football clutched in his hand.

"How the hell did you hang onto that?" I demanded.

Cas snickered and shot me a grin.

Suddenly I felt an all too familiar prickle run up my spine. I spun, scanning around me.

"Lucy?" asked Dean.

I ignored him, my eyes widening and heart pounding as I continued to spin in a circle. There was nothing there, but there had to be. There had to be something there.

"Let's go inside," suggested Jodi.

I locked eyes with her, and saw that she looked wary. She had guessed what was going on. Her eyes were calm though, steady brown. Whatever was out there, she was ready.

The thought helped calm me, if only slightly.

"Yeah," I choked out. "Let's."

Truly concerned now, the boys rushed inside. Annie followed behind me, clearly confused, and Jodi came last. I saw her scan around as she came through the door, and then she locked it behind her.

She turned to me and I shook my head. Whatever it was, it was still there. Still watching.

Jodi started to go around the room, drawing the blinds. I joined her.

"Check the windows upstairs," Jodi ordered Annie. "Quickly. Make sure they're locked and shut all the blinds. Turn all the lights on. Every single one."

Annie looked scared now, but she hurried to do what Jodi said.

"What's going on?" asked Sam. "Lucy?"

I ignored him, drawing the last curtain shut.

"You too," Jodi told me. "Lights on. We can't turn them off because we need to see, but we can at least confuse whatever's out there about where we are."

I nodded and ran around the first floor of the house flipping switches. By the time I had finished Annie was back, a machete in hand. She handed Jodi the other and went to sit in a place in the room that was in the perfect location for her to bolt for any of the doors.

"What the hell is going on?" Dean stood from where he had been seated on the couch next to Sam and Cas. His face was tense with worry and confusion. "Why are you acting like something is about to come barging in here?"

Jodi opened her mouth to answer, then shut it and looked at me. I sighed and glanced away.

"Lucy?" asked Cas.

I could feel his eyes probing me, willing me to meet his gaze.

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head, my cheeks reddening. Now that we were safely inside the whole thing seemed blown out of proportion. It was just a silly feeling. I was overreacting.

But it had been Jodi who'd had the biggest reaction, who had rushed inside and all locked down the house. I trusted that she knew what she was doing. If she was worried this much then shouldn't I be too?

One glance toward the window, where the curtain was still shut but from where I could still feel a dark sense told me that yes, I should be very worried.

"Lucy?" Cas stood when I didn't respond, crossing the room and taking my hands. "Look at me. Lucy, please."

I did. Cas's eyes were filled with worry, darting across my face as though he would find the answers to his questions there.

"What's going on?" he asked softly.

I sighed. "I've been feeling like something's been watching me," I said. "I don't know what, and I don't know why."

Dean frowned. "How long?" he asked. "What exactly happens?"

I shrugged, stepping away from Cas so I could see everyone. "Nothing ever happens," I said. "I just get this feeling that I'm being watched. Except the other night; I thought I saw something. Someone. When we were in Miss Carter's office, I thought I saw someone standing across the street. By the time I'd gone across the room to get a better look whoever it was had gone."

"And how long has this been going on?" asked Sam. "You failed to answer that one."

I crinkled my nose. "A while. Since the shapeshifting vigilante case in Alabama. That was the first time it happened. That I know of at least."

"What?" Dean threw his hands up. "That was _months_ ago! Lucy!"

I held up my hands. "I'm sorry! Ok? What was I supposed to say? Hey guys, I'm having a weird feeling that I think someone who I can't put a name or motive to is watching me. Except when I look there's never anyone there."

I raised my eyebrows, and Dean sighed.

"Lucy," said Sam. "We would have believed you. We'll always believe you. You gotta tell us these things."

I nodded, my throat choking up.

"So, it's not vampires?" asked Annie. She was glancing around uncertainly, her grip on her machete loosening. "It's you, not me?"

I blinked rapidly, taking a moment longer than I would have liked to realize what Annie must have been thinking. Then I felt awful.

Jodi was already comforting her. "You're fine," she promised. "Nothing is going to happen to you."

Annie nodded, her breaths slowing. She looked relieved, and my guilty feeling worsened.

"I'm sorry," I offered her. "I didn't think what must've been going through your head."

Annie nodded slowly. She was definitely upset, but I didn't think she was too angry at me.

"Ok," said Dean. "Let's get back on topic. We need to find out what's been watching you and why."

"It seems like you're being watched in a variety of places," Cas observed. "Right?"

I nodded, and he continued.

"So whatever this is, it's willing to travel to keep an eye on her. It also has some way of knowing where Lucy is. What monster has the ability to do that?"

We all traded looks, and then shrugs.

"It's times like these that I really miss Bobby," muttered Sam. He sighed and grabbed his computer from his bag. "Let's start looking."

"In the meantime," said Dean, "Lucy, you're to stay with one of us at all times. No more going off on your own." He raised a hand as I started to object. "I mean it. We have no idea what this thing is or what it wants. If it makes a move, I don't want you cornered by yourself."

I ground my teeth but nodded. I hated his confinement, but oddly enough, it made me feel better.

"I'll ask around heaven," Cas said. "Maybe one of my siblings will know something." He moved back to me. "Will you be alright without me for a few days?"

I rolled my eyes. "I can handle myself, Cas."

Cas smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "I know you can. Be careful. I love you."

He vanished before I could reply.

I sighed, glancing around the room. Sam and Jodi had their laptops open and were already sorting through google searches, and Dean was going through their father's old journal, which he had gotten out of my bag.

"Come on," said Annie.

She led me to the coat closet, where there was a wooden trunk that was kept locked. The key was on a hook on the inside of the closet, and she had to feel her way up the wall to find it.

At the top of the trunk were a variety of monster hunting weapons that Jodi had collected over the years. Underneath that were books, new and old that Annie started to pull out.

"This is all Jodi's research," she told me. "Her own and what she's found from other people."

"Thanks." I took a stack of books and brought them to the living room. Annie followed with the rest, and we settled down to start the search.

I glanced up a few minutes later, then cautiously made my way to the window. I pushed aside a curtain, ready to let it fall back into place, but the feeling that I was being watched was gone. Whatever had been there, it had given up for the night and left.

With a deep breath I sat again, picking my book back up and leafing through it.

The night wore on, and though the feeling of being watched didn't return I never relaxed. I wasn't going to until we'd caught whatever was stalking me.


	10. Chapter 10

We stayed and searched for days, rifling through internet searches and old books. Jodi and Annie made a run to a local library for some folklore and monster legend books. We went through those, and then, when we couldn't find anything, we went through them again.

"Bobby had some old storage facilities," said Sam a few days later. "He had a bunch of books and stuff. We should go check those out."

Dean nodded and glanced outside at the dark sky. "We'll leave in the morning," he decided. "Lucy, you should stay here."

I lifted an eyebrow. "Uh, how about no."

Dean sighed and stood, rolling his head around to work out a kink. "We don't know what the thing is, where it is, what it can do, why it's interested in you; we don't know anything. Bringing you out in the open is the last thing we want."

"I'm a hunter, Dean." I stood, tossing the book I'd been reading onto the coffee table. "I can't hide away just because something's out there. It's kind of in the job description to do the exact opposite."

"Not when it's strictly after you."

"Exactly when it's after me. What happens if the next time the thing shows up it decides to actually come after me? I can't put Jodi in danger like that! Or Annie!"

"I think we get a choice in this," Jodi piped in. She stood and came over to put her hands on my shoulders. "Sweetie, I can take care of myself. Though you're right, I don't want to risk my daughter if I can help it." She sent a soft look toward Annie, who shifted slightly under her glance. "If you need a place to hide out though, you can stay here.

"Now." She turned to Dean. "You don't tell this young woman what she can and can't do. She's old enough and smart enough to know what's best for herself. I get that you're worried, but keeping her locked away isn't going to do her any favors. You need her help with this, and she won't be ready for anything hiding away."

"Jodi's right," Sam agreed. "Dean, you know trying to lock her away won't do any good. She'll just sneak out and find something herself. She's a good hunter. She knows what she's doing. We gotta trust her."

I sent Sam a smile of thanks, and he returned it. Dean was standing in front of the couch, frowning as he studied me. I did my best to look intimidating and bad-ass, but I don't think it really worked.

"Fine," he said at last. "But you're staying with me. No wandering off."

I rolled my eyes, but nodded agreement.

We headed back to our motel room soon after. I kept my eyes peeled from the moment I left Jodi's house until the boys and I were safely in our motel rooms.

On their insisting, Sam was with me. This had been more Dean's idea, and we all knew he had wanted to be the one with me, but Sam had volunteered, knowing Dean would be a bit overwhelming.

Instead of going straight to bed as Dean had insisted, spouting some crap about how we needed sleep since we were hitting the road tomorrow, Sam and I stayed up late talking.

"You gotta understand, Lucy, he's worried about you."

I sent Sam a glare as I curled up on one of the chairs at the little table in the motel room with a mug of tea.

"That doesn't give him the right to hover twenty four seven. He can't just hide me away whenever something bad happens. I'm a big girl. I can handle myself. He needs to know that."

Sam sighed. "Dean knows that," he said. "He really does. You gotta understand, all his life he was the one taking care of me. That was his job. And when my dad came home from a hunt all worn out, Dean looked after him too. It's instinct at this point."

"He doesn't do it to you."

Sam snorted. "Yeah, he does. Or at least he did. He's gotten a bit better over the years."

"Well, he needs to get better with me!"

Sam sighed and reached across the table to take my hand. "Lucy, you've got to understand, the thought of losing you scares the crap out of Dean. It scares us both. We're the ones who dragged you into this whole mess; we don't want something to happen to you because of us."

I frowned. _What?_

"Sam," I said. "What are you talking about?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "The wormhole," he reminded me. "If we hadn't come through right in your school, you never would have met us. You'd be safe in your own world right now, going to college, living a normal, safe life."

I sighed. "Sam that was never going to happen. That whole situation was a paradox. The wormhole never would have been created if we hadn't met, and we never would have met without it. That's not on you. That's on whatever weird thing I became when I absorbed all that angel grace."

"Which you never would have done if you hadn't gotten stuck here with us."

I rolled my eyes. "It's not your fault. Ok?"

Sam looked doubtful, so I ran a hand through my hair and tried again.

"It's really not. It's no one's fault. Even forgetting the whole freakiness of the wormhole, I _chose_ to stay with you guys. I could have gone home at any point before we got to this world. I didn't. You didn't make me do that, I wanted to stay. You didn't drag me into anything, and it's not your job to get me out."

Sam shrugged, his eyes downcast. "You're our little sister," he objected. "It is our job."

I stood and made my way over to Sam, wrapping my arms around him.

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere." I pushed on Sam's chin until he looked me in the eyes. "I can fight; I can handle myself. The only danger here is me killing Dean."

Sam snickered at that. He gave me that happy puppy grin of his, then threw his head back and laughed.

"You think I'm joking," I pressed. "But I'm not."

"Oh, I know." Sam's guffaws came harder.

I scowled and hit him lightly on the back of the head, then took my tea and curled up in bed. I glanced at my phone, which was plugged in on the nightstand, but there was nothing from Cas.

"Lucy?"

I paused with my hand halfway to the light switch. Sam's voice was scared, vulnerable. When I looked over I saw he had the same expression on his face.

"What is it?" I asked softly.

"Please," he said. "Just- be careful. Alright?"

I nodded, feeling my heart squeeze at the look on his face.

"I will," I whispered. "I promise."

* * *

The next morning we headed out, stopping at Jodi's first for a breakfast that wasn't from a drive through. We left after filling up with coffee, making our way to the first of several storage facilities.

"Cole lives near this warehouse," said Sam, pointing to a red dot on his map. "Do we trust him enough to get him in on this?"

Dean considered, and I rolled my eyes as I leaned forward in between the brothers' seats to get a look at the map.

"He's a good guy," I said. "I thought the two of you sorted things out. Call him. Don't press him though, I don't want anyone involved in this who doesn't have to be."

"Cole can handle himself," Dean shot back.

"Oh, but I can't?" I sent a glare up to Dean, and his back stiffened and his hands clenched on the wheel. "Either way, he's got a little kid. Whatever this thing is, I don't want it turning up at his house."

Sam and Dean traded looks.

"We'll leave that up to Cole," Sam said. "I'll give him a call."

He did, and Cole promised he'd head to the warehouse as soon as he got out of work.

"How's he supposed to get in?" I asked.

"I'm sure he knows how to pick a lock," Dean said.

"Are you sure Bobby didn't set any booby traps or anything? Is picking the lock to one of his storage facilities a good idea?"

There was a moment of silence, and then Sam was calling Cole again to tell him to be _very_ careful going into that storage facility.

"I think Garth lives by that third one," Dean said. "Give him a call. Tell him to leave his litter home."

Sam snorted but placed the call. Garth happily agreed to help, and also- much to Dean's chagrin- enlisted us all to come for a visit at some point.

"Was the one time not enough?" asked Dean.

Sam snorted. "Come on, they're not bad. For werewolves at least."

Dean harrumphed.

* * *

We spent a couple of days rooting through Bobby's stuff at our chosen facility, and once we received word from Cole that he hadn't found anything that he thought would be helpful at his warehouse we headed towards Garth. When we arrived he was just finishing up, and he too had a grand total of nothing.

"Hey Lucy!" he called. He bounded over, the figure of puppy rambunctiousness, and grabbed me up in a hug.

I laughed. "Hey, Garth. How've you been?"

Garth shrugged as he set me down. "Pretty good. Really good, actually. Dean-O! Sammy!"

Both Sam and Dean scowled at their nicknames as Garth drew them into hugs. I stood off to the side snickering, and from the direction of the warehouse someone else started laughing.

She was a pretty blonde, wavy hair cut short about shoulder length. She was leaning against a beat up old Ford Ranchero that I assumed was Garth's, the keys dangling in her hand.

"You must be Lucy," she called. "I'm Bess. It's good to meet you."

I smiled, approaching Bess to shake her hand. "You too! How are you?"

"Very well." Bess patted her stomach, which I noticed was very round. Seeing my look, she grinned and nodded, confirming my guess.

"Congratulations!" I pulled Bess into a hug, and she laughed.

"Thank you!"

I pulled away, not wanting to disturb her baby. "Boy or girl?"

Bess shrugged. "We don't know. We want to be surprised."

I nodded. Understandable.

"What's going on?" asked Sam. He, Dean, and Garth were approaching.

"We're pregnant!" Garth bounced to his wife's side, grabbing her hand in his.

"Hey!" Both Dean and Sam grinned, pulling Garth into hugs. "Congrats!"

Garth looked as happy as a little boy on Christmas.

"So," said Bess. "Dinner?" She glanced over to Dean, who suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Or we could get together after."

"After," agreed Sam, nodding. "Definitely."

We stayed and talked a bit longer, then drove off to find a motel. After eating dinner we headed over to Garth and Bess's house, a pretty little house out in the countryside. Immediately, Garth drew us inside.

"We've been working on it for months," he said. "The whole family. But none of us can agree on a paint color. What do you think?"

Garth swung open a door, and we stepped into the baby's room.

The walls were a plain white, but each piece of furniture was a deep brown. A cradle was in the center of the room, with a changing table against one wall. A rocking chair sat in the corner, perfectly positioned so that the light of the fading sun streaming in the window lit up its various mahogany hues. There was a dresser pushed against the wall, and when I pulled on one drawer, I found it was stacked with baby clothes.

"They were mine and my brothers' when we were babies," said Bess, coming up behind me. "Once the baby is born and we know what gender they are, we can buy some more clothes."

I nodded, fingering an adorable little onesie.

Bess pulled me over to where Garth, Sam, and Dean were looking at paint swatches. Already they were arguing over which was best.

"I like that one," Sam offered, pointing to a red color.

Garth shook his head. "It's too bright," he objected. "We need something calming."

"What about this?" Dean pointed to a powder blue.

"That's a boy color," objected Sam.

"So?"

"What if it's a girl?"

"What if it's not?"

I rolled my eyes. "This one?"

Everyone followed my gaze to a minty, pastel green. It looked like mint chocolate chip ice cream- without the chocolate chips. Or the ice cream.

Bess nodded. "I like that." She looked at Garth. "Didn't I suggest that?"

Garth scowled lightly, more playful than anything. "Maybe."

"It's not bad," admitted Dean.

Sam nodded agreement.

"Great!" Bess snatched up the paint swatch. "Lucy, will you come with me to the store tomorrow to get the buckets? I could use a hand. And a few less men."

She crinkled her nose, and I laughed. I imagined her house had been swarming with her apparently male dominated family over the course of her pregnancy. I'd have been going mad at that point too."

"I'd love to!" I frowned. "Hold on, is it safe? Not for me," I said quickly, rushing to undo any offence I'd accidentally caused- she was probably thinking I had a problem with her being a werewolf- "for you. Has Garth told you what's going on with me?"

Bess nodded, seriousness taking over her face. "I know," she said. "Don't worry; I'm tougher than I look. And we'll be in public; nothing will happen."

I nodded, doing my best to look more reassured than I felt. "Alright then," I said. "I'd love to come."

Bess nodded happily. "I can come pick you up tomorrow," she said. "Around noon?"

I grinned. "I'll be ready."

* * *

 **I am so, so sorry for the long hiatus. Things have been so crazy lately. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me despite that.**

 **Just like with the prequel,** _ **Angels, Demons, and TV Shows,**_ **I am more than willing to take suggestions for things you'd like to see Team Free Will encounter in the story. I might write it into this fic, or I could post it as a one-shot. Let me know!**

 **Once more, I'm very sorry about the long wait for this chapter. Have fun reading!**


	11. Chapter 11

True to her word, Bess came to get me around noon the next day. She stayed for a few agonizing minutes to listen to Dean lecturing us about staying safe from my supernatural stalker, and then we both fled, giggling like teenage girls sneaking out in the middle of the night.

We rolled the windows down, letting the wind chase away the sticky heat.

"Ok," I said. "The whole pregnant women craving pickles thing, is that a myth or not?"

Bess laughed. "It's true for me," she said. "Though I have more of a red meat craving."

I nodded. "And chocolate?" I asked.

Bess made an eager face. "Oh, yes. So much chocolate. Garth keeps half the pantry filled with it now."

I laughed. We stopped at a red light, and I noticed Bess glancing over at me.

I turned to her with a raised eyebrow, and she smiled, knowing she'd been caught.

"Sorry," she said. "It's just- you don't seem to have a problem with me."

I blinked. I knew what she was talking about, but I decided to play stupid anyway.

"Why would I have a problem with you?" I asked.

Now it was Bess's turn to raise an eyebrow. "I _am_ a werewolf," she said. "And you're a hunter. Neither of your brothers are very fond of me."

I shrugged. "I'm not them. And they're better than you think; they're just cautious around people they don't know that well. And overprotective of me."

Bess chuckled. "Yes, I figured that out."

We both laughed, thinking back to Dean's lecture.

"You really are fine with it?" Bess asked.

I nodded. "Really. I don't care if you're a werewolf, shape shifter, smurf, whatever. If you're a good person you're cool in my book."

Bess laughed lightly at my phrasing, but there was a shine of gratefulness in her eyes as she started driving again.

"Thank you," she said.

She turned on the radio after that, some old country station. Generally I'm not the biggest fan of country, but in small doses it's tolerable. Especially in place of the awkward werewolf talk. So I turned up the volume, and Bess and I sang along as loud as we could.

After stopping at the department store, where we bought probably way more than enough buckets of paint, we went to the mall and started for every store with baby sections, because why not?

The mall was a huge, multi-floored monstrosity. The first floor was mostly the large theater and even larger food court, with a few shops thrown in. All the stores we wanted were on floors two and up. We hopped on the elevator, heading for the third floor, where Bess's favorite baby store was.

In the stuffed animal department I threw a purple octopus into the wagon.

"This," I said. "Is adorable."

Bess chuckled. She moved off to investigate a couple of racks over, and I turned the other way, a giraffe catching my eye. I was just turning back to the cart when I collided with someone.

"Whoops. Sorry." I glanced up at the person I'd collided with. He was tall and broad, about as big as Sam, with light brown hair and grey eyes.

He smiled slightly. "It's fine." His voice was deep and rumbly. He gently scooted past me. "If you'd excuse me."

He hurried away, and I watched him go. That was odd. Was it my skin?

I frowned and added the giraffe to the cart, moving to another aisle. There I started going through little plastic teething things. I had no idea if werewolf teething was worse than normal human teething, but either way, teething toys wouldn't hurt.

Still, the man's curt behavior was bugging me, and I continued to worry over it several minutes later. I was so caught up in my worrying, in fact, that I didn't notice the growing feeling of being watched.

I froze as it first occurred to me, breaths changing to sharp hisses. My hand drifted to where my pocket knife was, but it felt somehow wrong to even entertain thoughts of pulling it while surrounded by baby stuff. Slowly I straightened, muscles tense as I turned slowly, scanning around me.

"Hey."

I jumped and nearly screamed as Bess came from behind me, fumbling automatically for my knife. Bess sent me an amused look as she dumped a bundle of cozy looking swaddling blankets in the basket, but as she caught sight of my face her expression changed to concerned.

"It's here," she guessed.

I nodded, eyes wide, and Bess gulped. Her hand came to hover protectively over her stomach, and I cursed mentally. This could not be happening. Not here, not with her. I couldn't chance something happening to Bess or the baby.

"Come on," said Bess. She spun the cart around, and when I didn't move she grabbed my hand and pulled. "Come on."

We hurried down the aisle, speed walking toward the counter to pay for the baby supplies. We shoved our purchases onto the counter, and as Bess tried to hurry the annoyingly talkative clerk through ringing us up, I scanned around. I didn't see anything, but that didn't mean much. I couldn't risk pulling out a knife here; someone would call the cops.

I darted to a little mini fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, shoving it at the clerk. She rang it up, and I grabbed it and stalked away.

From my bag I pulled the book that I'd been reading earlier, bookmarked with a rosary (it was either that or dog-earing the page, and I hate that). I uncapped the bottle of water and started purifying it, doing my best to not let anyone see. I had no idea if holy water would work on something non-demonic- I'd never tried it before- but it was that or nothing.

At last Bess had finished, and we speed walked from the store. I kept the purified bottle of water uncapped, ready to throw at the first person who came up to us, but no one did.

I wanted to take the stairs; something in my gut told me they were the best option, but both Bess and I knew she wasn't making it down those. Especially not with us carrying so many bags.

We resorted to pounding on the button to close the door. Slowly the metal doors started to inch together, but at the last moment someone slipped inside with us. It was the guy I'd bumped into in the store.

"Just made it," commented Bess to him with forced cheeriness.

The man nodded. He glanced around the elevator, eyes sweeping over Bess and me. Then his eyes widened, flashing back over to Bess. His expression twisted, and for a moment I thought I saw something akin to disgust there.

I tensed. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. All of a sudden alarms were going off in my head, screaming that I needed to get off that elevator right now. I realized that the sensation of being watched by someone who I couldn't see had disappeared.

For a moment no one moved. I could feel the tension building in the elevator as everyone realized exactly who we all were- the werewolf, the hunter, and her stalker.

Stalker boy was the first to move. He leapt forward, an angel blade flashing in his hand, aimed for Bess's heart. She yelped and jumped back, and the knife missed her by inches.

A moment later I rammed into him, water bottle splashing all over the place- seemingly with no effect on the stalker. We smashed into the wall, and I tried to wrestle the angel dagger from his hand. It didn't work, and the man threw me across the elevator.

He charged at Bess again, who tried to bat him away with some of the bags. It didn't really work, and she cried out as he grabbed her by the hair and shoved her against the wall, next to the door.

"Get off her!" I charged forward, stabbing with my pocket knife, but he parried easily with one hand, keeping Bess pinned against the wall with the other. Then he shoved me to the floor.

As he turned back to Bess she started clawing at him, nails seeming to sharpen. Her eyes turned a yellowish color, and her teeth were definitely sharper. She made scared, panicked, growling noises as she struck at the man, leaving deep gashes down his face, arms, and chest. Blood ran down his skin.

He stabbed at her, but at the last moment she broke free from his grip and ducked out of the way, and a shriek of fright tore from her lips as she dove to the side. The angel blade sunk into the wall where her head had been only a moment earlier. From where I had crashed against the opposite wall I lashed out with my foot, sending the man tumbling down. The angel blade clattered out of his hand.

I scrambled forward before his head had even stopped bouncing, snatching the angel blade from the ground. With my left hand, which was holding the knife, I held the man down, and with my right I punched him. Hard.

Blood spurted from his nose. I punched again, then again, then, as he stopped writhing under me to get away, I dropped the blade and used both hands to pummel him. There was a red rage coloring my mind, blocking out everything except how completely pissed I was.

"Lucy! Lucy, stop!"

It wasn't until Bess jumped forward and grabbed at me that I heard her yells. I struggled for a moment, but she was deceptively strong, and she managed to pin both my arms back against her.

"Lucy."

I was panting. I could feel her panting behind me, and could feel her heartbeat pounding through her shirt, through my hand that was pressed against her chest.

"Ok." I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head slightly to clear it. "I'm ok."

When I opened my eyes and glanced up at Bess she let go of me. Slowly I stood, backing away from the man.

This was him. I knew it. This was the person who had been stalking me for months now, who I had been living in terror of. He had finally come after me.

It was over.

Except something was wrong. He hadn't been attacking me- in fact it had almost seemed like he was making an effort to not hurt me. He had been trying to kill Bess.

"Bess," I said. "Are you ok?"

"Ye-yeah," she said.

I glanced over to see her backed against the wall, hands pressed to her stomach. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and still slightly yellowish, though the claws and fangs had retracted. Now that the fight was over, her terror was setting in.

"He- he was after me," Bess stammered. "Why was he after me?"

I shook my head. "He must have known. He knew you're a werewolf."

"How? And isn't he supposed to be after you?"

I gulped. "I don't know." I glanced around. Either way, we needed to get off that elevator. Stalker boy would be arrested, and hopefully the boys and I could find a way into the jail to see and him and find out what he was or what he wanted with me. "Shouldn't we have reached the first floor by now?"

Bess cursed. "The lights have gone out," she said. "The elevator must have stopped."

"Probably when he stabbed the wall." I pointed to where the man's angel blade had narrowly missed Bess's head, from which I could see a few wires poking out.

Bess poked at the red emergency button. "It's dead."

I pulled out my phone. "And of course, no cell service."

Together, we slanted a look to the man. Then I grabbed one of the new baby blankets from the bags and tore it in strips. I used them to tie up the man, binding his wrists and ankles.

"Ok." I gazed around again, then spotted a door on the ceiling. "We could climb out."

Bess glanced up. "I'm not going to fit through that."

One look at her stomach verified that she was right, and I sighed.

"You should go," Bess said. "Get help."

I shook my head. "I'm not leaving you here alone. What if he wakes up?"

Bess shot a nervous glance over to the tied up man, then did her best to look confident. "He's tied up," she said. "I'll be fine for a few minutes. Go get someone to call for help, and then come back."

I considered, then nodded with a sigh.

"Fine. But if he wakes up start shouting for me, and I'm coming back down."

Bess nodded, and I set to work trying to knock out the moveable piece of the ceiling. Jumping at it didn't work, so in the end I had to brace my hands and feet against the walls and shimmy up until I was close enough to reach the tile.

I swung myself out onto the roof and looked around. There was no ladder or anything on the walls for me to jump to. The only way I could possibly get to the next floor was the cord that the elevator hung on. From there it was a several meter climb to the door of the floor above us, which, though I couldn't see it that well from where I was, looked shut.

I sighed. Wiping any sweat on my hands off on my jeans, I jumped up, grabbing the cord. It was hard and taught, cutting into my hands, but with a wince I held on. Slowly I climbed, silently thanking Dean for all the many push-ups he still made me do when we trained.

Even still, by the time I reached the door my arms were burning. When I groped for the door my fingers barely brushed it, so, taking a deep breath, I flung myself off the cord.

I smashed against the wall, grasping hands wrapping around the small ledge at the last moment. I heaved myself up, then set to pounding on the door.

"Help!" I screamed. "Somebody!"

I tried to pry the metal doors open with my fingers, but it wasn't working too well. I alternated between that and calling, and luckily, within moments, someone answered.

"Is someone there?" I heard.

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Yeah! I'm here! I'm here! The elevator broke!"

There were distressed murmurs from on the other side of the door. I guessed I'd drawn a crowd with my yelling.

"Alright! Get back down to the elevator if it's safe," shouted the person. "We'll call help. Is it just you?"

I shook my head, then realized they couldn't see me. "No! My friend's with me; she's pregnant. And some guy; he tried to attack us!"

There was a long stream of curses.

"Can you freak out later?" I called. "Get a fricking ambulance!"

There was a minute or two where all I could make out was murmuring.

"Ok, they're on their way."

I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Is anyone hurt?"

"Just the guy who attacked us. He's not hurt bad."

The person on the other side of the door started to say something else, but I stopped listening. I could hear shouting from beneath me.

"Lucy!"

"Shit!" I glanced back to the door shut in my face. "My friend's calling me. Something's wrong."

"Ok, go. If you can, climb back up after and tell us what's going on. We'll let the paramedics know."

"Thank you!"

I threw myself back at the rope and started climbing. After a moment I gave up and slid down, ignoring the pain it caused in my hands.

"Bess?" I dropped down into the elevator, angel blade drawn. My eyes shot first to where the man was crumpled on the floor, but he hadn't woken.

"Here."

I turned to see Bess sitting now, one hand on her stomach and the other clenched in a fist at her side. She was breathing heavily through gritted teeth.

"What is it?" I hurried over, only realizing as I knelt down that the floor around her was wet.

Bess and I locked eyes.

"My water broke."

* * *

 **Ok, I know this is a major cliche, the elevator breaks down and the pregnant woman goes into labor. But I think, considering the fact that it's a werewolf pregnancy and there's also a still mysterious stalker on board, it's hopefully not as bad. Just a warning, the next chapter will be somewhat awkward given the whole labor thing. I'm doing what I can while writing it to minimize awkwardness, but... just putting it out there.**


	12. Chapter 12

**I am so, so sorry that I haven't posted in so long. Finals were a whirlwind, and I've got graduation in a couple of days. The end of high school. Eeek!**

 **Anyways, as an apology, I'm giving you two new chapters tonight. I will try and get more of this story up as fast as I can, but I'm going to be bouncing between several stories in the coming weeks. Thank you all so much for your patience, and I hope this is worth the wait.**

* * *

Bess groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. The hand on her stomach tightened, clutching at the folds of her shirt.

"Shit," I muttered. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, _fuck._ "

Bess inhaled deeply, fighting off the contraction. When she opened her eyes a minute later she fixed me with a glare. "Don't you panic on me, Lucy," she ordered. "I'm going to need your help."

I blinked blankly, then started in on a fresh stream of curses.

"Lucy. Lucy!"

I froze as Bess shouted my name.

"Go get help." Her voice was calm with only the slightest tremble, panic only showing in her eyes. "Then come back. Hurry."

I nodded and clambered back up to the door.

"My friend just went into labor!" I shouted. "We need out of here now!"

This time, I couldn't begrudge the cursing of the person on the other side of the door.

"Is anyone a doctor?" I heard them shout. "Does anyone know what to do here?"

There was a series of replies, and from what I heard, they were all nos.

"Ok. Hang in there. Hopefully that ambulance will be here soon."

I nodded and climbed back down. When I got to the elevator Bess was moaning in pain, and as I knelt at her side she grabbed my hand in a grip so hard it hurt.

"The ambulance is on its way," I soothed. "Just hold on."

Bess nodded, tears squeezing out of her eyes.

It took a good few seconds for the contraction to fade. When it had we sat together against the wall, ignoring the fluid pooled around us.

"I'm sorry," Bess whispered.

I shook my head. "No. This isn't your fault. It's mine. None of this wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for me."

Bess shook her head now. "No. Don't think like that. Ok?"

I nodded. For a minute we were silent.

"Why did he attack me?" she asked. "He can't have known what I am."

I shrugged. "I don't know. It's the only explanation that fits."

Bess nodded reluctant agreement.

"But how would he have known?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I have no idea."

Bess grimaced. "That knife. What was it? It was odd."

I pulled out the three edged knife. "It's an angel blade."

"Angel?" Bess's eyes widened. "Is that guy one of those?"

I shrugged. "Maybe. There's one way to find out."

I crossed over to the man, who had already healed from Bess's scratching and my punching- though he luckily hadn't woken yet- and made a shallow cut on his arm. A thin trickle of blood ran down his pale skin, and a blue-white glow filled the air. At the sight of it vague, confusing recollections stirred in my mind, but I pushed them down with a shake of my head.

"Well, shit." I stepped back again. "He is. What the hell?"

I threw my hands in the air as I crossed back to Bess. "I'm going to kill Cas's entire family. This is unreal. What is their problem with me?"

Bess's eyes were wide. "Maybe they don't like that you and Cas are dating?"

I scowled. "Then they need to get over with it, cos I'm not breaking up with him just because they've got issues."

Bess chuckled. She was about to say something when she groaned again, face paling. Her hand clenched on mine.

"So why did he attack me then?" she panted once the contraction had passed. "If he's supposed to be stalking you."

I frowned, recalling the angel that I'd known as Jackson. "Most angels aren't very fond of other supernatural creatures," I said. "Even less fond than Sam and Dean."

Bess nodded slowly. "He probably wouldn't have attacked you then," she guessed. "I bet he just wanted to see how close he could get. Then he saw me and flipped."

I nodded. "I'm sorry I pulled you into this."

Bess patted my hand softly. "It's not your fault."

I didn't respond.

We were silent for the next several minutes, until we heard shouting from above. I handed Bess the angel blade and climbed onto the roof, where I could see a thin sliver of light coming through the door.

"Hey!" I grinned. "We're down here!"

"Climb up!" someone called.

I frowned but did as I was ordered. When I came level with the door I saw that it was just open enough to stick a hand through. I could see a bunch of people on the other side, a dark skinned, deep eyed paramedic closest to me. Just behind him I could see some other paramedics, as well as several firemen.

I clambered to the ledge, and the paramedic reached through to help me onto the perch.

"The door's stuck," he said. "We can't get it open more than this. We're working on it, but it might take a while."

My eyes widened. "How long? My friend's in labor down there! Not to mention there's some unconscious guy who just tried to kill us!"

The paramedic grimaced in sympathy. "I'm sorry. We're doing our best, but there's nothing I can do right now. Is the attacker tied up?"

I nodded.

"Good. Your friend, how is she? How far apart and how long are her contractions?"

"Wh-I don't know! A few minutes, I think."

The paramedic nodded. "Have they sped up at all?"

I thought. "Maybe. I'm not sure. What does it matter?"

The paramedic took a deep breath. "You might have to deliver this baby."

My eyes widened. "What?" I shrieked. "No! I can't do that! I'm not a frigging doctor!"

"Calm down, calm down. I'll walk you through it."

"How? You're stuck up here, and I'm going to be down there!"

The paramedic signaled behind him, and someone brought him something. He stuck a walkie-talkie through the door hole to me, then a plastic bag.

"These will let us talk, and there are supplies in the bag for you to use. Now, is your friend married? Is there anyone I should call?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Garth Fitzgerald." I rattled off his number. "Tell him to let my family know what's going on. He'll know who to call, if he's not with them."

The paramedic nodded, calling over his shoulder for one of the other paramedics to call Garth. "Ok," he said. "What's your name?"

"Lucy."

"And your friend?"

"Bess."

The paramedic nodded. "I'm Isaac. Lucy, I need you to climb back down now. Talk the supplies. We'll go from there, ok?"

I nodded. Quickly I slipped the walkie-talkie on my belt and slid down, then glanced inside the bag. It had a box of gloves, a bottle of alcohol, and a knife. Frowning, I dropped into the elevator, where Bess was just finishing a contraction.

"The paramedics are here but the door's stuck," I informed her. "They're trying to get it open, but it might be a while."

Bess's eyes widened.

"What about the baby?" she asked.

"Apparently I'm delivering it." I sighed and took a seat, pulling the walkie-talkie off my belt. "Isaac?"

"I'm here," he responded. "How's Bess?"

"I'm fine," Bess said.

I held the button on the walkie. "She says she's fine."

"Good." I could hear Isaac taking a deep breath. "Bess, I'm going to need you to get off your pants."

"Oh, geez," I muttered.

Bess wasn't wearing pants but a dress, so we pulled off her underwear, and I donned a pair of gloves.

"Now what?" I asked.

"I need to know how dilated she is," Isaac said. "And how far apart the contractions are."

For the record, I will _never_ tell anybody what I saw next.

"She looks pretty dilated," I said. "But I'm no doctor. And about two minutes apart for the contractions."

"Ok, we're getting closer to the delivery, but you've still got time. Once she's fully dilated she'll be ready to deliver."

"How long will that take?" asked Bess.

"It varies."

"Let's hope it takes a while," I said. "So that some actual professionals can get down here. Isaac, what's the knife and alcohol for?"

I could hear him sigh through the static walkie-talkie line. "When the baby is born, you'll need to cut the umbilical cord. Use the liquor to sterilize the knife first."

I grimaced. "Great."

Bess and I traded nervous looks, and I settled down next to her, careful not to touch anything with the gloves on my hands. Across the elevator the angel hadn't moved, but I kept an eye on him.

We traded a bit of small talk with Isaac, which got awkward when I ended up making up a background story for myself. Every once in a while I checked Bess's dilation, which was slowly increasing as the time between her contractions decreased.

Nearly a half hour had passed when Isaac suddenly laughed. "I think your family's here."

Sure enough, a minute later the yells of Sam, Dean, and Garth filled the walkie-talkie, each voice trying to rise over the others.

"Would you all shut up?" I yelled. Next to me Bess laughed.

"Garth," I said. "You first."

"Bess." Garth's panicked voice came out of the walkie. "Are you ok? Is the baby?"

Bess smiled. "I'm fine. Ah-ow. Contraction. Ohh, that hurts."

"Bess?" came Garth's worried call.

"She's fine, Garth," I said. I sighed and changed gloves as I handed Bess the walkie-talkie back.

"That was closer together," warned Isaac.

"Yeah, I know." I sighed and shifted position. "Yeah, she's a lot more dilated now."

"I feel more dilated," Bess said as the contraction faded. "It doesn't feel too nice-ow!"

I glanced up sharply. "Is that another contraction? Already?"

Bess nodded, hitting the button on the walkie so we could all hear her reply. "Yeah."

"Then it's time." I could hear Isaac take a deep breath. "Ok, Lucy, I need you to look again. Can you see a head?"

I did. "Yeah, I think so."

There was the sound of something moving around behind me, and Bess screamed.

I spun just as the angel lurched into a sitting position. Blood, now dry, still clung to his skin, and hatred bored out of his eyes. Luckily, his hands and ankles were still tied.

"Don't try anything," I warned. I grabbed the angel blade, holding it ready. "I know what you are. Do you really think you're going to get away with this? Since when has messing with us Winchesters ever ended well for anyone?"

"Lucy?" The boys were all calling into the walkie-talkie now, which they'd probably wrestled away from Isaac. "What's going on?"

I didn't bother responding. I simply glared at the angel, and he glared back.

"You shouldn't have done that," he said eventually.

"Done what?" I asked.

"Defended _it_." The angel nodded toward Bess, who was fighting to stay alert through another contraction. "I was simply watching. Evaluating. But this?" The angel shook his head. "This is wrong. You are wrong. Wrong for him."

I raised my eyebrows. "Hold up," I said. "Are you kidding me? What, have you idiot winged douchebags been stalking me to see if you approve of Cas's girlfriend? Are you insane?"

The angel lifted his chin. "His name is Castiel. And we have been determining if you are a bad influence on him."

"A bad influence? He's not a teenager!"

The angel scowled at me. "He has been neglecting his heavenly duties. We didn't understand why until we remembered you. So we watched you. There have been mixed opinions, but the consensus so far was to leave you be, to simply convince Castiel to return to his duties. Now though, you have chosen to aid an abomination. You-"

"Protected an innocent pregnant woman against a psychopathic nut-job," I interrupted. "So what?" You're going to come after me now? I can tell you now that won't end well. So you can go to hell."

The angel's eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward, tensing as though he was going to hop up and over and attack. I raised the angel knife. I didn't want to kill him; then we couldn't get more information out of him. But I might not have a choice.

"Dammit! Get this door open. I'm going down. Sam, call Cas!"

At Dean's furious yell the angel paused, his eyes flickering upward. Apparently taking on an angry Dean Winchester was an idea that appealed to absolutely no one, or maybe he didn't want Cas to show up, who would be able to recognize and put a name to him. Whatever his reason, a decision flashed in the angel's eyes.

A moment later he vanished.


	13. Chapter 13

I jumped forward- too late- to try and stop him. My hands clenched around empty air.

"Shit." I scowled into thin air, then, for good measure, punched the wall.

Maybe not my brightest idea.

"Ow, ow." I sucked in a deep breath, letting loose another stream of curses.

"Lucy?" asked Bess. Her voice was tight with anxiety and pain.

I took a deep breath. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a minute. Whew. Here we go."

Regaining control over myself, I knelt in front of Bess again, changing my gloves. She hit the button on the walkie talkie, and I quickly told the others we were fine.

"But our unwelcome friend disappeared," I added.

In the background I could hear Sam and Dean cursing very loudly.

"How?" asked Isaac.

Bess and I exchanged glances.

"Uhh. He managed to untie himself while I wasn't looking. I guess he decided he didn't want to go for round two, cos he climbed out of the elevator and went over the side before I could stop him."

"He did?" asked Isaac. "I didn't see anything. And I'm looking down."

"But from what Lucy said, that door is only open a sliver. You can't see much," Bess piped in.

"True." There was a frown in Isaac's voice. "Alright, are you two ok for now? Because this baby is about to be born, and I need you focused."

"Yeah, we're good," I lied. _So not ready for this._

"What do we do?" asked Bess.

"The baby's going to crown," said Isaac. "Bess, you need to push. Lucy, you need to guide it out. Have blankets ready and sterilize the knife."

I nodded and grabbed some of the blankets we'd bought, then dunked the knife in the bottle I'd set to the side.

"You know how to use that, right?" Bess asked. "You won't hurt the baby accidentally?"

I barely held back an eye roll. "Bess, what do I do for a living? I know how to handle a knife."

Bess nodded. I signaled for her to press the walkie button again.

"Ok." I set the knife to the side. "I think the baby's coming out."

"Is this where I push?" asked Bess.

"Yes." Isaac's voice was amazingly calm- a lot calmer than I felt. "As hard as you can. I'm going to be here the whole time."

"Me too!" I heard Garth shout.

Bess nodded and pushed. She cried out, and I winced.

"You can do it!" I encouraged her. "Come on. Push!"

Screams filled the air, and I watched the baby slowly start to emerge. Isaac walked me through guiding the baby out, and luckily, there weren't any cords wrapped around its neck or anything. As soon as the baby was out I cut the cord, then wiped a finger around inside of the baby's mouth to clear out any mucus. Immediately, he started crying.

"It's a boy!" I shouted.

I swaddled the baby, and was about to hand him to Bess when Isaac spoke.

"Now comes the afterbirth," he said.

I frowned. "The after-what?"

Isaac laughed. "The afterbirth. Basically the lining of the uterus that the baby was attached to. Bess, you need to push that out now."

"Seriously?" she asked.

She sighed and pushed again. It seemed afterbirth was easier than a baby, because there weren't any screams this time. Soon it slid out, a messy slimy jumble of tissue and blot clots. I grimaced, but luckily my choice occupation had prepared me for lots of blood.

"Please tell me that's it," I said.

Isaac laughed again. "That's it," he promised. "How's the baby?"

I handed him to Bess, examining him as I did. "He looks good. Covered in blood though. And something else. Do I want to know what it is?"

"Probably not. He sounds healthy."

"He is." Bess was grinning tiredly. "I was there when my mother gave birth to my little brother years ago. This little guy looks the same as he did."

I glanced at the baby. His eyes were amber, his teeth a bit sharp. As I watched the teeth dulled, the eyes fading to a chocolate brown. Chubby fists waved in the air.

"Oh. He's adorable." I reached over and let the baby snag my finger.

"He really is." Bess's finger smoothed gently over his head. "Garth, he's beautiful."

"Garth's pretty much having a meltdown," Sam answered. "But a happy one."

Bess and I laughed.

"How much longer till we get out of here?" I asked.

"Not too much longer, I hope," Isaac said. "I think the firemen are working out a way to get the door open."

"Good." I glanced over to Bess. She was clearly exhausted, but was already feeding the baby, gazing fondly down at him the whole time. I piled blankets on her for warmth, then peeled off the gloves and sat against the wall with a sigh.

It was another half hour before the rescuers got down to us. They managed to get the mechanisms of the elevator working enough to slowly lower us to the bottom floor, where they pried open the doors and freed us. Bess, who was pretty much dozing, was loaded onto a stretcher, and Garth rushed forward to take his son.

"Thank you." He launched himself at me and wrapped me in a hug, tears in his eyes.

"You're welcome." I pulled away as an EMT came up, and we allowed him to take the baby for a basic checkup. A minute later Garth and the baby settled into the ambulance with Bess, and the doors were closed.

"Lucy!" Sam and Dean threw themselves at me, and I nearly fell over under their combined weight.

"What the hell happened down there?" asked Sam. He glanced to the blood filled elevator.

I knew he wasn't asking about my brief stint as a midwife, but I didn't have a chance to answer. A police officer came to take my statement, and as soon as he was done Isaac came up.

"You did fantastic," he congratulated me.

I grinned. "Thanks. I had a lot of good help though."

Now it was Isaac's turn to grin.

"I'd have thought you'd left already," I stated.

Isaac shrugged. "There were two ambulances; we were expecting to have to bring two people to the hospital. But then your attacker ran off, so I have a minute to spare."

I nodded. "Well, thank you. For everything. I don't want to know how awfully that would have gone without you."

"You're welcome." Isaac's smile was less boastful and more sincere this time. "Though I think you would have managed well enough on your own. Have you considered going into nursing?"

I shook my head. "That is not happening. Ever."

Isaac laughed, then glanced behind him as someone honked the ambulance horn.

"That's my que." He gave me one last smile. "See you around."

I nodded. "See yah."

As soon as Isaac had left I grabbed Sam and Dean's arms and dragged them to the car. Dean insisted on laying down an old blanket we had stashed in the car before he let me in. Even then he made me promise not to move one inch off the blanket or I would be scrubbing out his car.

"Ok," he said as we pulled out. "What happened?"

I took a deep breath and told them everything, from the moment I had first gotten the feeling of being watched again until the angel had disappeared.

"Did you get a hold of Cas?" I asked.

Sam shook his head, glancing back at me. "No."

I sighed.

We made quick time back to the motel, and I hurried inside for a shower. I paused halfway in the door as I became aware of someone sitting on my bed. Hearing the creak of the door, the person in question glanced up from his phone.

"Hello." Cas smiled at me. "How are-" Noticing the blood that covered me for the first time, his eyes narrowed, and he shot to his feet.

"What happened?"

I rolled my eyes. "Relax. I just delivered Bess's baby."

Cas's face lit up. "Congratulations! How is the baby? And Bess?"

I nodded. "They're fine. We're headed to the hospital to see them once I shower. I think you're missing the obvious question."

Cas merely gave me a confused look.

I rolled my eyes. "How about why I was delivering a baby!"

"Oh." Cas cocked his head to the side as he considered. "Why were you?"

I ground my teeth and stalked forward, punctuating my words with stab like finger motions. "Because your siblings are a bunch of winged nut jobs."

With that I filled Cas in on what had happened, stalking back and forth the whole time. He frowned in growing concern until I had finished, at which point he ran a hand through his hair.

"This is not good," he stated.

"No shit, Sherlock."

Cas gave me a look, then started pacing himself.

"You said you cut the angel though? Where?"

"The arm." I frowned. "But it was a shallow cut. And he's probably already healed himself."

Cas sighed. "True."

I knew we were both thinking the same thing. That Cas should go back to heaven and dig around. There was bound to be a stir up there from any conspirators in light of recent events, he might be able to find something out.

I also knew that neither of us really wanted him to go. And we both knew it.

"Are you ok?" Cas asked. His blue eyes studied me, picking up on little things in my expression that only Cas knew.

I shrugged. "I'll live."

Cas frowned and stepped forward, holding out his arms.

"What are you doing?" I batted him away, despite how much I wanted to just fall into the embrace. "I'll get you all bloody."

Cas gave me a look that quite clearly stated he didn't care. Then he sighed and nodded, stepping away.

"Go get in the shower," he ordered. "I'll come with you to the hospital. I want to meet this little baby."

I nodded, hiding a smile as I closed the bathroom door behind me. As soon as I was in I slumped against the door, exhausted. I wanted nothing more than to shower and curl up in bed with Cas. I wasn't sure why. I'd been in worse fights before.

Either way, I needed to get moving. I pulled off my blood covered clothes and stepped into the shower, standing under the hot water for a good five minutes as I watched the blood run down the drain.

When I emerged a half hour later, clean and in fresh clothes, Cas was waiting on my bed. Sam and Dean were there too, and the three were going over the incidents of that day.

"Ready?" they asked.

I nodded. "Let's go."

The boys sprang up and started for the door, and I started to follow. Before I could Cas grabbed my arm and spun me to him in a hug.

I threw my arms around him and clung to his neck, forcing a couple of sobs down my throat. Why was I so emotional?

Whatever the reason, Cas's presence helped. He held me tight against him, his hand moving smoothly up my back and pressing into my hair. He didn't say anything. He was just there.

Finally I pulled back, albeit with great effort.

"I'm good," I assured him. "Let's go."

Before Cas had a chance to object I was moving for the door, though I could feel him watching me nervously as I went.

* * *

The drive to the hospital was quick. Garth had texted us Bess's room number, so we didn't need to waste time having someone look it up for us. Garth met us at the door to the room, grinning like an idiot.

"Come on, come on," he urged. "He just ate; I think he's settling down for a nap."

We followed him in, where Bess was curled up in bed with the baby in her arms. Surrounding the bed were her family; her father and siblings. Each werewolf stood as we entered, and for a moment they and Sam and Dean locked eyes warily.

"How's the baby?" I broke the silence by moving toward the bed, ignoring the male testosterone building up in the room. One man, presumably Bess's father, moved to block me.

"Dad, it's alright," Bess soothed. "This is Lucy. She delivered Bobby."

"Bobby?" I asked.

Bess nodded as Garth came to stand by her side, his finger brushing lightly at his son's cheek.

"That's what we named him," Garth told me. "Bobby Isaac Fitzgerald."

I smiled softly. I didn't need to look behind me to know what expressions Cas, Sam, and Dean had.

"Lucy." Bess's father drew my attention back to him. "Thank you for looking after my daughter. And grandson."

I nodded, taking note of the reverend's outfit he wore. "My pleasure."

I held out my hand, and after a moment's hesitation he shook it. With slightly more reluctance, he, Sam, and Dean shook hands. Satisfied that no one was about to try to kill anyone else, I moved closer to Bess and Bobby.

Cas stepped up next, holding out his hand. "My name is Castiel. Or Cas, if you prefer. It is good to meet a man of the lord."

Sam, Dean, and I snorted.

"What?" asked Reverend Myers.

I waved away his raised eyebrow. "That's an old argument."

"My father has been rather absent lately," Cas supplied.

"Father?" asked Bess.

"Cas is an angel," Garth piped in. "His father is god."

"And he's a pretty damn useless father," Dean added.

I shot him a glare, which he ignored.

Cas received looks of appreciation from around the room. Bess's father looked thrilled.

"I think you and I are going to get along," he stated.

Cas grinned. "I hope so."

Bess clearing her throat from behind drew my attention.

"Lucy," she said. "Garth and I wanted to ask you something."

"If it involves delivering another baby, the answer is no."

Bess laughed, reaching down to stroke Bobby's arm gently.

"Nothing like that," she assured. She and Garth locked eyes, and he nodded.

"We were hoping that you might be willing to be Bobby's godmother."

I blinked rapidly. Was she serious? I bit my lip, holding back a wide grin as happiness- the first real happiness I'd felt in days- swept over me.

"Me? Really?"

Garth nodded. "Of course. You're the one who delivered him. You protected Bobby and Bess from the attack."

"Bess held her own pretty well there."

Garth smiled proudly. "I'm sure." He frowned suddenly. "If you don't want to…"

"No, no. I do!" I jumped forward and pulled Garth into a hug, then clasped Bess's hand in my own. "Thank you so much! I'm just a bit overwhelmed."

Garth nodded. "I can tell."

I sent him a mock scowl, then brushed tears out of my eyes.

"Yes." I nodded eagerly, grinning. "Thank you! Oh, can I hold him?"

Bess nodded, carefully passing me Bobby.

"Support the head," she warned.

I nodded, already settling Bobby into a comfortable position in my arms. I bounced him up and down lightly, and was thrilled when he gave a faint cooing sound and settled happily to sleep.

"You're a natural at this," Sam commented.

I gave a half shrug, adjusting the blanket around Bobby's shoulders. "Yeah, well. I used to hold Jackie and Peter a lot when they were babies. Guess it's kind of muscle memory."

"Who are Jackie and Peter?" asked Garth.

I frowned slightly, my thoughts going to my little siblings in a different universe. What were they doing now? Did they miss me still? I hadn't thought of them in a long time.

"They're my little brother and sister," I told Garth.

Garth looked like he was about to ask more, but someone- probably Sam and Dean- shot him a look over my shoulder that made him promptly shut his mouth.

"Ok," said Sam. "If Lucy is godmother, does that make Cas godfather?"

Bess jumped at the change in topic. "I don't know if it's automatic," she said. "But I'm willing to make him godfather. Garth?"

Garth nodded. "You game, man?"

Cas frowned, and leaned down to whisper in my ear.

"What does that mean?"

I snickered. "He's asking if you're willing."

"Oh." Cas looked thrilled. "Of course. I'd be honored."

I glanced behind me. Bess's father looked happy enough to faint.

Dean grinned. "Now that that's settled. Let me hold the little bugger."

I laughed as Dean all but snatched Bobby from my arms. Like me, he already knew how to hold a baby. Next Sam took Bobby, though he needed a little adjustment on how he was holding the baby.

Cas was next. He truly had no idea what he was doing. I quickly helped him, planting a quick kiss on Bobby's forehead as I did.

"He's beautiful," Cas commented. He locked eyes with Garth and Bess. "Healthy too."

"You can tell that?" asked Garth.

Cas nodded, humming softly. He tried to bounce Bobby up and down, and I automatically held out a hand- just in case.

"Careful," I warned. "Don't drop our godson."


	14. Chapter 14

"Are you ok?"

"Hmm?" I glanced up at Cas, lifting my head off his chest.

Cas frowned down at me, his fingers temporarily stopping the swirling pattern they were rubbing onto my back.

"Are you ok?" he repeated.

I shrugged and settled down again. "I'm fine. Keep rubbing."

Cas gave a snort of amusement, but did as I ordered.

"You seem tired though."

"I've had a long day."

Cas sighed, and I almost giggled. Almost.

"You know that's not what I mean," he stated.

I rose, sitting with crossed legs next to him on the motel bed.

"What do you want me to say?" I asked. "That I'm ok with the fact that I now have a giant, supernatural target on my head? Believe me, I'm not, but currently there's not much I can do about it. So right now, yes, I'm fine. I'm fine because there's no one actively trying to kill me, and because we finally have a night together, and because, up until a minute ago, I was getting a really nice back rub. Ok?"

Cas frowned. "But that's not healthy," he objected. "You were distraught earlier. You barely spoke during dinner. Talk to me."

"I was not distraught."

"You certainly weren't fine."

I scowled. "To be fair, I had just delivered a baby."

Cas gave me a look. "Lucy, you're still upset. Please, talk to me. Don't hide from me."

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair.

"There's not much to talk about," I stated. "You already know what happened." For a moment I sat quietly, pouting into thin air. Cas watched me silently, upset echoed in the lines around his mouth as he frowned, in the darkness in his eyes.

"I just- I just don't get it," I blurted. "I didn't help him kill Bess, so I'm a bad person? Really?"

Cas sighed, pushing himself into a sitting position with his back against the headboard. "Angels don't see gray areas," he said slowly. "To them, a person is either good or evil. We tend to think that anything of supernatural origin is evil. It's the way it's always been. Our first instinct is to kill."

I frowned. "But you don't think that."

Cas shook his head. "I used to. Dean and Sam taught me there is more to look at to a person than whether or not they're human. I used to be very cold hearted."

"I know," I whispered. "I saw on that show I watched. I forgot about that."

Cas stayed silent. I looked over at him. He was frowning into thin air, probably remembering lives he had taken and wondering if their deaths were really necessary.

"Hey." I jostled his arm. "That's not you anymore. There's a reason I forgot about that. Because I look at you now, look at the person you've become, and I don't see any darkness. You're a good person, Cas. The best."

Cas broke out of his reverie and smiled at me. Love swirled in his sapphire eyes.

"So are you," he said.

He cupped my cheek in his, bringing my mouth to his in a kiss. I let myself melt into it, shoving my new worries out of my mind and falling into our passion.

At the end of the kiss we stayed where we were, our foreheads brushing, our breaths softly caressing each other's faces.

"If this is what my siblings think is wrong for me," Cas said softly. "If this is bad, then I don't care. I don't care if they think you're wrong for me. Because sometimes, the only thing I know is you. Your touch. Your voice. The way you make me feel- no one else can do that. I love you, Lucy Greene. And if that's not right, then nothing is."

I smiled against him.

"I love you too."

We kissed again. It started as a gentle kiss, and then it grew in fervor. I felt Cas run his hands up my arms and down my sides, memorizing the feel of me. I wrapped my arms around him and clung to him like there was no tomorrow.

It wasn't until his fingers started fumbling with the top button of my shirt that I pulled back.

"I can't," I gasped. I shifted off of Cas, ignoring how every fiber of my being was screaming at me to return to him. "I can't. Not now. Not yet."

Cas nodded. He looked disappointed, but he quickly cleared it off his face.

"Of course," he said.

I stood, feeling awkward and embarrassed and still wanting to run back to him. I paced around, running a hand through my hair and ignoring the way Cas's eyes followed me.

"I'll be back," I said suddenly. "I need some air."

Cas sprung to his feet as I headed for the door.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he objected. "You're not safe alone."

I rolled my eyes. "I can handle myself. I'll be back in a few minutes."

With that I bolted out of the room and into the cool night air, all but slamming the door behind me. I didn't have to look back to know that Cas was watching me go from the window.

As soon as I was a short distance away I dug my phone out of my pocket, fingers fumbling as I pulled up the number I wanted. It took a couple of rings, but then Mia answered.

"Hello? Lucy?"

"Hey." At the sound of her voice- the voice of someone normal, someone separate from my insane life- I started to relax. I sat on the curb, taking a moment to scan around me to make sure I was alone.

"What's up?" asked Mia. "You sound stressed."

I snorted. "You could say that." I shook my head. "But that's not important. I need a distraction. What's up with you?"

Mia laughed. "Not much. I've got a huge paper due next week. You probably don't want to hear about it."

"No, no. I do. Tell me."

There was a pause. Mia was probably on the other end of the phone wondering what weird shit I'd gotten caught up in now that was prompting this. She apparently chose not to comment, instead launching into an explanation of her paper and its difficulties. A good half of what she said was grouching about having to write it to begin with. I listened to every detail, laughing at her and offering advice. I even gave her a few stories about some of the more annoying projects I'd had to do back when I was in school.

Of course, that got me thinking about my world. About my family. Who I would never see again.

It didn't take long for me to make up an excuse about why I had to get off the phone. I wasn't sure if Mia saw through it, but she let me go. For a good ten minutes I sat on the sidewalk, fingering my phone, trying to sort through the swirl of thoughts and emotions in my head.

I was still sitting there, still trying to sort through it all when Cas came to find me.

"Lucy?" he asked.

I glanced up. "Hey."

Cas gave me a small smile, sitting on the curb a few feet away. Neither of us said anything, but a minute later I slid over so he could wrap an arm around me.

"I'm sorry I ran out like that earlier," I said softly.

Cas pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "It's fine," he assured me. "You needed your space." He paused. "You're still upset. Do you want me to leave?"

I shook my head. "No. Stay."

Cas nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I shook my head. For a good ten seconds silence fell over us.

"I miss my family," I blurted.

Cas remained quiet, but his hand started rubbing my back again.

"How do you think they are?" I asked. "Do you think they'll ever recover? Will they stop looking for me?"

Cas sighed. "I don't know," he admitted. "I think it'll be hard for them. It always will be. As time goes on the pain will be less, but it will return at times."

"I know." I blinked back tears. "I figured. I abandoned them."

"No. You didn't." Cas pressed me against him, as if hoping that would help comfort me. "You didn't choose to get trapped here. That choice was taken away from you."

I sniffled. "Yeah, but if I had had a choice. If I could do it over again, knowing the consequences of going with you, knowing I'd get stuck here- I'd still do it. I would give them up. And I hate that, and I hate myself for it, but I would still do it. And it kills me."

Tears were sliding down my face as my voice broke. I brushed them away, but within moments more were there. After a moment I simply turned into Cas and buried my face in his chest, sobbing.

I poured it all out. All the grief, all the anger, all the guilt I'd felt over the past year. I sobbed it out, forced it out through gurgling, half choked noises that wrenched their way up my throat.

Throughout all of it, Cas said nothing. He simply sat there, his arms wrapped around me, his fingers occasionally rubbing soothing circles on my back. When my crying finally subsided he didn't pull away, he just sat there until I had regained composure of myself.

"I'm so-"

"Don't." Cas tilted my head back until I could look him in the eyes. "Don't apologize, Lucy. Never apologize."

I nodded and pulled Cas into a hug. When I pulled away again we were back in the motel room, sitting on the bed we had recently vacated. Without speaking we automatically shifted position so that we were lying down again, me curled into a ball against Cas's side.

"What does it mean that I barely think of them anymore?" I asked. "I haven't thought about them in months. Not really."

Cas sighed above me and tucked his chin on top of my head.

"It means you've moved on. Not in a bad way. You haven't forgotten them. You never will. But there is more to your life than your grief. You know that, and so you've moved on."

I nodded. It made sense. It didn't make me feel any better, but it made sense.

Cas seemed to realize this. He also seemed to realize there was nothing he could do at this point, so he quickly changed the topic.

"Are we going to see Bobby tomorrow?" he asked.

I nodded. "Unless you need to get back to heaven."

Neither of us spoke for a moment. We knew he needed to. We also knew it just wasn't happening for a couple of days.

"He's a beautiful child," Cas said.

I nodded. "He is. I'm going to enjoy spoiling him."

Cas chuckled. "You may have to fight Dean over that."

I snickered. "I'd win. He's my godson."

"Our godson," Cas corrected.

I grinned.

"What does the term godparent mean?" asked Cas.

I shrugged. "I think it's a promise that we're going to be present in the little bugger's life; make sure he gets a good religious education specifically. Also, I think in old times, before there was things like courts and official papers saying who gets the kid, if something happens to the parents, the godparents take in their children."

"So if something happens to Bess and Garth, Bobby becomes our child?" asked Cas.

I peered up at him. "You planning to off them so we can take the baby?"

Cas looked horrified. "No! I would never! Stop snickering, that is an awful joke!"

I pressed my lips together to cut off my laughs. "Cheer up."

Cas harrumphed.

* * *

The next day we took our time getting up. We were all exhausted from the day before, so we slept in before going to the hospital. Bess and Garth were just checking out when we arrived, Garth pushing Bess and Bobby, who were in a wheelchair, to their car. We followed them back to their house, where we found Bess's family waiting. Overnight they had finished preparations for Bobby's room. The paint we had picked out had been applied, and though the scent of it was heavy in the air, Reverend Myers assured me that within a few days it would fade, and Bobby would be able to sleep in there.

"We brought these," I said. "Cas and I popped by the store this morning, picked them up." I held out the bags of baby supplies that we'd gotten. They were all things that Bess had bought yesterday, but had lost in the attack.

The Reverend gave me a warm smile. "Thank you. Let's put them away. Then we can join the others for breakfast."

I nodded eagerly. None of us had eaten that morning, having been invited to eat brunch with the Myers. I was starving.

It took about ten minutes to put everything away. We left most of the clothes and blankets lying on the furniture, as Reverend Myers insisted Bess and Garth would want to put it away to their liking later. When we got downstairs we found everyone else waiting at a large table piled with various breakfast foods. There were eggs, waffles, pancakes, fruit, toast, and ham steaks cooked to varying levels of doneness, and pitchers of water, milk, and various juices ready to pour.

"Wow," I said. "It's like Thanksgiving without the turkey."

Dean chuckled and pulled me into a chair. I took a moment to reach over and tickle Bobby where he was in a small cradle next to the table.

"How're you feeling?" I asked Bess.

She gave me a smile as she reached for a large bowl of strawberries. "Tired and hungry. I really hate hospital food."

I laughed and took the bowl as she passed it to me. "Yeah, it's pretty awful."

"When have you been in a hospital?" asked Sam.

I shrugged. "I had pneumonia when I was a kid. Had to spend the weekend in the hospital."

Dean's eyes widened. "How bad was it?"

I took a moment to think back. "Well, I got sick Friday afternoon, went to the doctor Saturday morning. Nearly passed out trying to walk down the stairs of my house. That was fun." I ignored the horrified looks I was getting from around the table. "Got to the doctors, and was immediately told to high tail it to the hospital."

"That sounds bad," commented Cas.

I nodded. "Yeah. But I got over it. So you don't need to move Bobby away from me Garth."

Slowly, Garth slid Bobby's cradle back to where it had been. Next to him Bess giggled and patted his hand.

"So, Lucy."

I grimaced at the tone to the Reverend's voice. It wasn't quite accusatory, but it wasn't quite happy either.

"Yes?" I asked. I looked toward him, and barely saw Garth and Bess shoot him warning looks from the corner of my eye.

"I feel we should talk about the events of yesterday." The Reverend waited for me to reluctantly nod my consent before continuing. "I've been informed that you were attacked by an angel who doesn't seem to approve of your and Cas's relationship. Is that correct?"

I sighed, and then nodded. "Apparently. They think I'm a bad influence on him."

"Why?" asked Garth.

I swept a look around the room, making sure I made eye contact with every werewolf in there. "For not killing you."

"And for other things," piped in Cas. "Some of my siblings seem to feel that I have been neglecting my heavenly duties as of late. They think there is a correlation between this and my relationship with Lucy."

"Is there?" I asked.

Cas slanted me a look, and I shrugged.

"Hey, I'm just curious," I defended. "Plus, while I love that you love me so much, you probably shouldn't go a-wall at your job. It seems to tick them off."

Dean snorted. Sam tried to hide a snicker. Cas didn't look amused.

"Is there a chance these other angels will attempt harm on you again?" asked the Reverend. "Or on us?" He gave Cas a skeptical look, clearly reevaluating his earlier excitement about there being an angel in his family.

I sighed. "On me, most likely. On you, I have no idea. They might. I would be careful, just in case. But I feel like their focus is on me."

Cas nodded. "It is. But there are many angels, and our memories aren't short. They might just make time for someone to come for you."

"So what do we do?" asked Bess. "We can't live in fear."

"Anti-angel wards," Garth suggested. "We can paint them all around the houses, on the ceilings of the cars. In our offices at work."

Bess raised an eyebrow. "Won't that be conspicuous?"

"There are ways to do it that won't draw attention to them," Sam said. "Paint the symbols on the floor and put a carpet over them. On the walls and cover with wallpaper."

"But that'll keep Cas out," objected Garth.

Cas looked calmly at him. "It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make," he stated. "Your safety is more important."

He received grateful nods and smiles from around the table, and I squeezed his hand lovingly.

"We can teach you emergency things," Dean added. "There's a symbol that if you paint it and then press your hand against it, will immediately get rid of any angels in your presence. But it's got to be painted with blood."

The Reverend grimaced. "I would rather not," he stated.

"No one would," Bess countered. "But as a last resort, I would rather know it."

The Reverend slowly nodded.

"It's ironic," he mused. "My entire life I have prayed to see angels on earth, have always thought I would rejoice to be brought into the presence of one. Now I must ban them from my house, and keep them from the church that I have invited them into for over thirty years."

I grimaced. "I'm sorry." I looked around the room, forcing myself to meet everyone's eyes. "I'm sorry to have brought this on you all. I never wanted to."

Bess's eyes softened, and she reached out to touch my hand. I resisted the urge to yank away.

"It's not your fault," she soothed. "We knew about your problem before we invited you here; we didn't know all the information we know now, but we knew there was danger."

"And either way," piped in Garth. "It's not your fault that all this is happening. You're the victim here. You don't have to apologize for anything. Ok?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

"Well." Dean clapped his hands and stood. "Now that we've had that cheery conversation, can someone pass the ham?"

The ham was slowly passed. Gradually the conversation returned to normal, though I could still feel people watching me throughout breakfast. I leaned against Cas's side, fiddled with my eggs, and tried not to think about the chaos that was quickly enveloping my life.

It didn't work.


	15. Chapter 15

I rocked slowly back and forth on the porch swing outside Bess and Garth's house, staring glumly at the wooden deck. I didn't bother looking up as footsteps rounded the corner.

"There you are." Cas's shadow fell over me as he came to a stop. "I've been looking for you. Have you been here this whole time?"

I shrugged. I had helped clear the table a bit after breakfast, but the Myers had insisted that, as guests, we not do any chores. So I'd lingered around for a minute, but I could feel the Reverend watching me from the corner of his eye, and had left pretty quickly. I hadn't really had a destination in mind; I'd just walked out of the house. Then I'd seen the swing and thrown myself in it and hoped no one would come looking for me.

Cas sighed when I didn't say anything to him. He sat next to me, his hand coming to rest lightly on mine. I didn't pull away, so he enclosed his fingers around me.

"You're worried," he guessed.

I nodded.

"You still think all this is your fault?"

This time I didn't make any response. Cas sighed, apparently guessing what I was thinking.

"It's not," he insisted. "None of this is your fault."

"None of them would be in danger if it wasn't for me," I snapped. I waved an arm at the house to emphasize my point.

"That doesn't make it your fault," Cas objected. "That's my siblings' faults. Not yours."

"Doesn't change things though, does it?"

Cas sighed, but said nothing.

"What can I do?" he asked eventually. "What can I do to make you happy?"

"There's nothing you can do." I scowled at him. "Unhappiness kind of comes with being a walking time bomb."

"Walking time bomb?" asked Cas.

I nodded. "Yeah. That's what I am. Everyone who goes near me gets hurt."

Cas frowned. "That's not true," he said firmly. "That is absolutely not true."

Once again, I said nothing.

"Come on," he said. "Come with me."

I frowned as he stood, pulling me to my feet. "Where are we going?"

Cas smiled as he took my hand. "You'll see."

* * *

"I saw her picture this morning while we were getting the baby supplies at the store," Cas whispered to me. "Along with her wish."

I nodded. I had seen it too. The girl's name was Valerie Joslin. She was nine years old and had leukemia. The Make a Wish poster next to the cashier's register, along with a little donation bucket, had said her wish was to meet Tiana from the Disney movie "The Princess and the Frog."

Right now she was in the intensive care unit of the hospital in the next town over. Her cancer had taken a turn for the worst the previous night, and from the whispered conversation I'd heard between some doctors as Cas and I snuck in invisibly, she didn't have long to live.

"Shouldn't you be dressed as a giant toad or something?" I whispered.

Cas pressed his lips together. "Her wish isn't to meet the prince. She wants to meet the princess."

I sighed and glanced down at myself. I was wearing a green princess dress that Cas and I had found in a costume store, complete with the gloves that stretched nearly all the way up my arms and the oversized tiara. I had carefully twisted my hair back into my best imitation of Tiana's princess hairdo, and now, with my heart pounding in my throat, I knocked on Valerie's hospital room door.

"Come in," sounded a tired voice from inside.

I let go of Cas's hand and pushed open the door. A man and a woman; Mr. and Mrs. Joslin, were sitting in chairs next to their daughter's bed. They both looked like they'd been crying, and were clutching their daughter's hand as if she would die the moment they let go.

Valerie was asleep. Her head was hairless from over a year of chemotherapy, and she was far too skinny for words. Her chest rose and fell steadily, but there was a tube running under her nose, giving her oxygen. I felt tears prick at my eyes.

I heard a gasp, and turned my attention back to Mr. and Mrs. Joslin. They had both risen to their feet when I'd entered, and had looks of wonder on their faces. Mr. Joslin bit his lip, but a few tears still leaked out of his eyes.

"Hello," I whispered. I cleared my throat. "Hi. I'm here for-"

"Mom?" Valerie's head moved as she woke, and she automatically groped for her parents. "Dad? Wha- Princess Tiana?"

I smiled at the excitement in her voice. Valeries's eyes were wide, and she weakly but determinedly pushed herself upright, staring at me in amazement.

"Hello, Valerie," I greeted her. I moved slightly closer, and when her parents didn't move to stop me, knelt by Valerie's bed and took her hand. "I heard you wanted to meet me."

Valerie's head bobbed up and down excitedly. "I did!" she exclaimed. "I did! I can't believe you came!"

I grinned at her, gulping back the lump in my throat. "Of course I came," I stated. "I always come for fellow princesses."

Valerie grinned, but then her face fell. She shook her head. "I'm not a princess."

I frowned. "Yes you are. Hey." I waited until she looked up at me again. "You most certainly are a princess. Being a princess isn't about how you're born, it's about who you are. It's about being brave and strong and kind, and never giving up. Are you those things?"

Slowly, Valerie nodded.

I smiled. "Then you're a princess. Don't you ever let anyone tell you differently."

Valerie nodded. "They're just jealous cos they're all frogs," she joked.

I chuckled and nodded. "That's right. But maybe you can show them how to be princesses."

"How?" Valerie frowned. "How do I do that?"

I shrugged. "Just be you. Look at your smile. You can light up a room just by being in it. Don't you know, you're the best princess of them all? Princess Valerie."

Valerie grinned. There was color slowly returning to her cheeks, and she suddenly shot forward and pulled me into a hug. I felt tears drip onto my shoulder, and I tried not to shed any myself.

"I love you, Princess Tiana," Valerie whispered.

I quickly pulled away, subtly brushing at my eyes as I did.

"I love you too, Princess Valerie. Here." I pulled the fake tiara off my head and set it gently on hers. "I want you to have this."

"Really?" Valerie lifted her hands up to the tiara. "Thank you!"

I smiled. "Of course. I've got to go now. I'll see you around, ok?"

Valerie nodded eagerly, her hands still grasping the tiara to her head. I made sure to keep the smile plastered on my face as I backed towards the door, and as Mr. Joslin started cooing over his daughter's new accessory with her, Mrs. Joslin followed me outside.

"Thank you." There were tears in her eyes as she closed the door behind us. "Thank you so much. I haven't seen her with that much energy in months."

I smiled. "It was my pleasure." I nodded towards the door. "No thanks necessary. Go be with her."

Mrs. Joslin nodded and hurried back inside, mouthing one last thank you to me as she went. I smiled and started down the hall, pausing once I was out of sight of the room. I felt Cas take my hand, and then we appeared back in our motel room.

I pulled off the gloves and tossed them on the table, wiping at my eyes.

"I'm glad we did that," I whispered. "To see her so happy…" I stopped, taking a moment to recompose myself. "I just wish we could've done more."

Cas smiled and came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. "We did," he said quietly. "While you were talking with Valerie I came in invisibly and healed her."

"You did what?" I whirled to face Cas, nearly hitting him in the nose with my head as I did.

Cas grinned down at me. "She will live for many years," he promised.

For a moment I could only stand there blinking. Then I threw my arms around Cas, laughing hysterically.

"I love you," I laughed in his ear. "I love you so much. Thank you."

Cas nodded, resting his head on my shoulder. We stayed like that for several minutes, and then he pulled gently away.

"I do this when I'm feeling stressed," he told me. He sat on the motel bed. "Heal people. It helps me to feel as though I'm making a difference."

I nodded. Suddenly I realized that I was no longer feeling gloomy and depressed. I was so happy I was practically lightheaded.

"Can I come with you for now on?" I asked.

Cas nodded. "I was hoping you would."

I threw my arms around him again, ecstatic. After a few minutes I got changed. There was a huge part of me that wanted to go out again and heal some more people, but as I pulled on my usual plaid I could see Cas slumping back in bed, tired from healing Valerie. I crawled up next to him and grabbed the remote.

"We should get back to the others," Cas objected. "We need to start the lessons."

I rolled my eyes. "Sam and Dean can handle things for now."

Cas nodded, and didn't object again.

* * *

By the next day I was surprised at how much warding everyone had put up. Bess and Garth's house and cars were completely sealed, and by the end of the day, so were the rest of their family's. By the next morning the Reverend was putting the final touches on the church, and then we sat them down and started teaching them how to make the blood sigil.

Throughout this time Cas wasn't of much use, so he finally returned to heaven. He came back to me each night, reporting unhappily that he hadn't learned anything of any help. None of us had really expected him to, but it was still disheartening.

The more time we spent with the Fitzgeralds and Myers, the closer we became to them. Even Dean got over the whole werewolf thing, and by the time we were eating dinner in Bess and Garth's backyard two weeks later, we were all laughing and joking like one big, happy family.

There were still rough times. I was still constantly looking over my shoulder, and I hated that everyone I cared about had to be so careful as well. Whenever I started to get glum Sam and Dean would do their best to cheer me up before simply calling Cas. We'd spend the rest of the day out healing, and by the time we returned at night, tired but happy, I was feeling much better.

Before we knew it, the end of the month was upon us, as well as the day of the baptism.

"Lucy, we have to go," Cas called. He accentuated his point with three hard raps on the bathroom door. "The ceremony starts in a ten minutes."

I cursed and forced myself not to rush my makeup. "Two minutes!" I promised.

I could hear Cas sigh heavily from outside the door.

"There!" I swiped on some lip gloss, put on my jewelry, and flung open the door. "Let's go. Where're Sam and Dean?"

"At the church." Cas handed me my shoes. "They left twenty minutes ago."

My eyes widened. "How are we going to get to the church?"

Cas gave me an _are you kidding me look_ and grabbed my hand. A moment later we appeared on a neatly trimmed lawn, behind which sat Reverend Myers' church. The front door was open, and I could see people moving around inside. A moment later Sam poked his head out.

"About time," he called. "We were starting to wonder if you were going to make it."

I scowled as I strode forward. "Hardy har har. Like I'd ever miss this."

Bess laughed as she emerged, Bobby in her arms. Bess was wearing a white dress with pink flowers, and Bobby was in a little white baptism outfit. He looked adorable as he waved his fists at me.

"Hi!" I gave Bess a hug and took Bobby, tickling his cheek. Cas came to stand at my shoulder and planted a kiss on his forehead.

"You're just in time for pictures," Bess said. She pulled me around to the side of the church, where Dean and Garth were working together to set up a camera. In the next ten minutes we did a variety of family shots of everyone, and some of smaller groups. Bobby was in every picture.

At last it was time. I held Bobby throughout the entire ceremony, while everyone except Cas watched from the bottom of the altar. Poor Cas was stuck outside the warded church. He watched from a side door that opened up next to the altar, and though he had a smile on his face the whole time, I could see the disappointment in his eyes that he couldn't stand with the rest of us.

After the baptism we went back to Garth and Bess's house for food. There were a couple picnic tables set up outside, and we brought all the food out and ate there. Cas took Bobby, and didn't let go of him for the next hour.

Eventually the boys got into playing a bit of basketball, so while Bess went inside to nurse Bobby, I grabbed a book and sat on the porch swing. I just couldn't get into reading though, and I ended up watching as Dean taught Cas how to slam dunk a basketball.

It was a nice sight. The kind that gave you a warm feeling inside. Everyone was joking and laughing, and I threw a few jokes at them from my seat. I felt at home with these people. They were my family now.

Eventually Cas came over to me, plopping down on the chair next to me. He offered me a wide smile and I returned it a bit absentmindedly before leaning against his side.

I could feel Cas tense a bit. He knew there was something going through my mind. He just didn't know if it was good or bad. Either way he sat quietly, waiting for me to speak.

Finally, I did.

"I think I'm ready," I said quietly.

There was confusion in Cas's voice as he responded. "Ready for what?"

I took a deep breath and looked up at him. "Ready to say goodbye to my family."

* * *

"How do you want to do this?" Cas asked.

I bit my lip as I thought. We were standing outside my house- the parallel version of it.

"I don't know," I admitted. "Maybe I can just walk through one last time. Take a final look around. Say goodbye."

Cas frowned. "You realize you can't speak to them, right?" he asked. "They can't know you're there."

I nodded. "I know," I said sadly. "But I can see them."

Cas nodded. A moment later we were inside, standing at the top of the stairs.

It looked exactly as I remembered it. From the color of the walls to the pictures hanging up throughout the room. It was hard to remember that this was the parallel version of my house, that it wasn't actually where I'd grown up.

Slowly, careful to keep a hold of Cas's hand, I moved forward. I walked slowly down the hall, peeking into Peter and Jackie's room. Neither were in it; they were probably on a playdate with their friend around the corner. The three of them practically lived at each other's houses. I slipped in, smiling as I looked around. I trailed my fingers over a couple drawings they'd left lying around, over their beds and their matching space designs. Cas let go of my hand; we weren't in danger of being seen in an empty room, and stood in the doorway, giving me some time alone.

After a minute I returned, and he took my hand again as we started for my room. We were almost to the door when it banged open, and the parallel version of me ran down the hallway with a backpack slung over her shoulder. Cas and I had to jump to the side so that she didn't run into us.

"What is she doing here?" Cas whispered as the parallel version of me called a goodbye to her parents. "Shouldn't she be at college?"

I nodded as I heard my mother yelling from the next room. Something about how I'd just gotten home yesterday; why was I leaving again so soon?

"I'll be back tomorrow," parallel me responded.

I could hear grumbling from my mom. A moment later a car horn honked outside, and Lucy number two darted for the door.

Cas didn't need telling. He had us out there before the other me, and we took a glance inside the car.

"It's Brian and Jill," I whispered. "They must still be together. That's good."

Cas pressed his lips together to hide his laughter.

"But where are they going overnight?" he asked.

That was a good question. We peered over the other me's shoulder as she opened the trunk of the car and dropped her bag in. What I saw made my hand clench painfully around Cas's.

There were grocery bags filled with cheap snacks and water. Those weren't so alarming. What was alarming wasn't the video cameras. It truly terrifying thing was the double barrel shotgun sitting beneath the bags of Cheetos, and the salt rounds next to it.

My eyes fixed on the gun as my vision tunneled.

"You managed to get the gun," the other me commented.

"Yep," Brian called back. "My parents won't notice it's gone as long as we get it back by tomorrow afternoon."

"Don't worry," Jill said as Lucy two slammed the trunk of the car shut. "We'll be done by tonight. Then we can all spend the night at my place so no one has to go sneaking home."

Lucy number two said something in response. I wasn't sure what, because she had closed the car door, and Jill guided it into the street and away. I had to resist the urge to go running after it as it rounded the corner, screaming at it to stop.

For several moments Cas and I just stood there. Then, slowly, he turned to me.

"What is going on?" he asked. "Are they-"

"Ghost hunting," I whispered. "Yeah."

* * *

 **So sorry for the long hiatus. Wow. I really do have to stop saying that. But I hope you guys are still hanging in there, because the real action of this story is about to start. (Insert evil grinning emoji.)**

 **I've had several reviews that I unfortunately can't reply to the normal way. There're the reviews from Danielle Cs, who is a guest, so that's why the site won't let me respond. Then there is a review from bookwriter123456. I've got an email about your review, but for some strange reason it isn't showing on yet. I'm not sure what's going on there. I've kind of given up on understanding technology.**

 **Anyway, thank you both for your amazing reviews. To answer your question Danielle Cs, Lucy and Cas haven't yet "done the dirty," so to speak, because it hasn't been necessary for the plot so far, and I've been saving it for a special moment. Don't worry, it will come. Also, to answer your question about me, I'm currently studying English and Psychology in college, and am undecided about what I'm going to do with these majors once I graduate. One step at a time I suppose. Thank you for your interest!**

 **Bookwriter123456, I promise I have not abandoned this story. There will most likely be some rather long hiatuses between chapters, but I fully intend to finish this story. Sorry to have worried you there, and sorry for the long waits. I don't like leaving you hanging for so long.**

 **Once again, thank you to the both of you for the amazing comments you left me, and thank you to everyone who has ever read or commented on my stories before. I write for all of you.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'll have the next one up as soon as I can.**


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